


Wookie-Sitter

by EmpireMurderer



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: And His Name is Wikk, Badass Phasma, Children Require Patience, Gen, OOC Rey, Rey Likes em Tall and Blonde, Sexually Aggressive Rey, Star Destroyers are No Place for a Wookiee Child, The First Order are Speciests, There will be fluff, This is Like the Seventh Time I've Written a Phasma Reveal, Which Phasma Doesn't Really Have a Whole Lot of, Wookiees (Star Wars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:34:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 38,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22351135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmpireMurderer/pseuds/EmpireMurderer
Summary: This story came about because I wanted to write a Phasma story but didn't have any good ideas. I askedAlynnaStrongand the following conversation occurred (Only slightly verbatim):EM: Me want write Phasma fic.AS: Try something like The Mandalorian. But instead of a badass warrior taking care of a baby Yoda, it's a badass chrome warrior taking care of a baby Wookiee. A Wookiee kiddie running loose on a star destroyer and Phasma's not allowed to kill him; comedy gold.EM: :OSo here we are.
Relationships: Phasma/Rey, Slight Phasma/Rey
Comments: 44
Kudos: 62





	1. A boy named GGRRRRAWNGHNG

**Author's Note:**

> Star Wars canon clocks in Phasma's height at 6'7".

The First Order battalions flew into the hemisphere of Kashyyyk inside hundreds of battle transports that blackened the forest planet’s sky. Even if the Wookiees had been prepared for the assault, they would have fallen under the onslaught in a matter of days.

Soon after surrender, General Hux and his officers were assembled inside a hut occupied by the Wookiee Council members, including the head leader, Kalathyya.

“You will have your people work the mining regions already established by the former Empire,” Hux demanded, “or we will enslave them and they will work the mines under duress. We require a quota of forty metric tons a week. If you do not produce this weekly quota then my officers will find harsher means to reach it.”

The Wookiee leader shrilled in anger and the First Order droid translated. “Kalathyya says that even if he were to implement your orders, it would take many weeks to ready the citizens and the mines for work.”

Hux snapped his fingers and First Order stormtroopers came into the hut leading a group of shorter Wookiees, some as small as a Jawa, at gunpoint. The council members cried out in horror. The droid translated.

“They say to not execute their children. They will have the mines operational in seven days.”

“Make it 24 hours,” Hux replied haughtily. He glared straight at Kalathyya and smiled. “To ensure your obedience, I will have to retain collateral.” Two stormtroopers grabbed a six-foot brown Wookie with blond streaks in his fur and dragged him out of the hut screaming. Kalathyya shrilled out in rage, knocking anyone in his path out of the way, but was stopped when a plasma bolt singed him across the shoulder and suddenly he was surrounded by seven blasters pointed at his head.

The child could be heard shrieking all the way to the transport.

* * *

Hux had planned the entire Kashyyyk encounter and was pleased when it had gone off without a hitch. Unfortunately, he had not anticipated the aftermath. A six-foot child Wookiee was not an easy hostage to manage.

“Sir!” The stormtroopers saluted as they gained Captain Phasma’s attention. “The Wookiee child will not calm down. He’s already sent four troopers to med bay.”

“It’s only been four hours, soldier,” the Captain answered in disappointment. “Surely the Wookiee child will only need a little more time. Simply give him a toy or candy or whatever it is children enjoy.” The stormtroopers glanced at each other in unease. She sighed and capitulated on behalf of her soldiers who clearly did not know how to handle this kind of problem. “But I’ll talk to the General about the situation.”

* * *

Hux watched the Wookiee child demolish a table in anger and slap the toy out of the hand of a stormtrooper who held it out as far from her body as she could.

“RWWARGH!”

“Oh, Force!” the stormtrooper cursed as she ran away.

“Why won’t it stop it’s tantrum?” Hux complained as more stormtroopers came in to console the child with no luck. Most of them found themselves tumbling head first towards the floor. “It’ll be back home soon enough. Doesn’t it know that it’s practically on a luxury cruise while his people are down below working the mines?”

“A child does not have the mental faculties to be reasoned with,” Phasma replied. “This child simply doesn’t understand anything except that he’s been displaced from his home.”

Hux and Phasma watched in silence from the observation deck as the Wookiee continued to cause destruction in the sparring room down below. Another stormtrooper rattled a doll in front of the Wookiee and was picked up and thrown clear across the room.

“Aren’t you going to do anything about it?” Hux sniped.

Phasma stared silently at him, satisfied when he flinched back a bit before turning towards the problem. “I know nothing about children. But I will see what I can do.”

* * *

The Wookie child was still exploding in anger when the door the to room slid open and in walked the shiniest object he had ever seen. Silenced into surprise, the Wookiee watched the chrome trooper stride up to him until she was close enough for him to note she had a clear height advantage.

“Cease your tantrum, child,” the stormtrooper demanded with an insistent finger pointed at him.

The Wookiee race do not have the physiology to imitate standard speech, however they are taught to understand it well before they learn to speak their own language. This particular Wookiee child growled out an indignant reply before reaching over to touch the shiny metal covering the Captain. Phasma slapped the child’s hand away, making the child look back at her in shock.

“No! Not okay!” Phasma chastised.

The Wookiee attempted another touch but was met again with another slap to his hand.

“GRRWWAAAAHG!” He went to push her, however years of teaching other youngsters how to fight gave her the experience to evade such a childish tactic. She stepped aside and the Wookiee fell to the floor without having made any physical contact.

“If you don’t behave, I’m going to make sure you don’t get your mid-day snack,” Phasma warned.

The Wookiee stared in disbelief that she would do that to him. With a harrumph, he sulked on the ground but did not put up a fight.

“Are you going to behave now?”

The Wookiee nodded dismally. He stood up and held out his hand. Phasma also held out her hand though towards the side where a brave stormtrooper ran up to her and placed a candy in her palm. She held it out to the Wookiee. He went to reach for it, but she pulled it behind her where he could just barely see it.

“I want to make sure you understand that good behavior gets rewarded and bad behavior gets privileges taken away, right?”

He nodded impatiently, just wanting the candy. Phasma gave it to him and he devoured it with his sharp teeth.

“Well done, Phasma,” Hux said as he came up to the pair. “You have a natural inclination with this child.

“Perhaps he responds better if he has someone to look up to rather than be submissive to a standard sized human.”

“I do believe you have hit upon something,” Hux agreed. “You’re the tallest person on the ship. I leave him in your charge.”

Beneath her helmet, hoping it had obfuscated his actual words, Phasma stared at him in horror. She could only assume he meant it when he parted saying, “I’ll have the Wookiee transferred from the brig chamber to your personal quarters.”

* * *

Phasma knew how to understand a little bit of Wookiee. She often referred to her knowledge as ‘kitchen Wookiee’ considering most of the words she could understand were types of food.

At the moment, the Wookiee child was sitting in her quarters, glancing all around in confusion by the sparseness of the room.

“What is your name, child?” Phasma asked him.

“GGRRRRAWNGHNG.” He trilled in his native language but she could only pick up a few syllables of something.

“Ra…ill…ggin…ick?”

The child shook his head with a giggle. He trilled again.

“Rap…gall…ick?”

Again, the Wookiee snickered in glee. He seemed to think it was some kind of game, or that she was botching it up for his amusement.

“Ral?”

He shook his head.

“Geyl?”

This time he laughed. She wondered if she had stumbled upon a bad word.

“Wikk?”

The Wookiee nodded his head enthusiastically.

“Wikk? Your name is Wikk?”

Now the Wookiee shook his head. Throwing her hands up in capitulation, Phasma retrieved her translator. She had him state his name again and the translator replied.

“Paalitoggoyhalrick.”

“I’m calling you Wikk,” Phasma told him. He shrugged with acceptance. “Do you know my name?”

“WAAAR.” Wikk resonated a deep sound in the back of his throat. It might have been her name. She nodded her head all the same.

“Good. How old are you?”

Wikk answered to which she barely managed to understand as two tens and a four of years. He was 24 years old, which intellectually equated to roughly 6 years in human age.

Phasma crossed the room to the holovision and turned on a holoprogram she thought might be suitable for his age. It showed clips of the best arena battles on Coruscant, which were in no way near as violent as the real battles she faced while growing up on Parnassos. This was probably fine.

“I have things to do, Wikk. I’m going to leave you here for a few hours. Don’t destroy anything.”

Wikk stood up to follow her as she went to the door.

“No, no,” she told him, ushering him back to the holoprogram. “You stay here.”

“RAWRWARRWARRRR.”

“Stay!”

For a solid minute she tried to convince him to stay in the room, but the longer she insisted, the more insolent he became.

“Stay in here and watch your shows,” Phasma ordered. She showed him she was serious by stepping closer to him and forcing him to notice their height disparity. Wikk growled at her, raised his hand in the air, and slammed it down on the holovision. It broke into pieces with spurts of electric tendrils dying out from it.

Phasma looked down at the Wookiee, who looked up at her in defiance. She sighed out in exasperation.

* * *

Five minutes later they were walking the halls of the star destroyer towards the one person Phasma thought might know something about Wookiees. She entered the relic chamber and found no one there. The Captain stopped a passing ensign on his way to the bridge.

“Where is Lord Kylo Ren?” she asked the ensign.

“The Sith Lord left for the outer realm. He’s searching for some sort of artifact.”

“Force…” Phasma muttered under her breath. She glanced towards Wikk who was reaching for one of the Sith Lord’s relics. “No! Bad Wikk! Not okay!”

* * *

Phasma led Wikk back towards the turbolifts in lower spirits. She had no idea how to care for a child and certainly didn’t want to start now especially with a nearly six foot hairball she could barely communicate with.

“Get in the turbolift,” she said as the doors slid open upon her approach. She looked back to nothing behind her at all.

“Force!” Phasma ran down the hall with her armor clanking with every footfall.

* * *

To her relief, Wikk was not in the relic room. Panic began to set in now that she realized him not being there might be worse than where he might actually be. She jogged down the hall peeking into every room for the oversized house pet.

“Er…Captain?” She heard this over and over again, doors sliding open to reveal confused officers and closing on them without an answer.

A scream down the corridor had her running towards the source. She darted into a room where a female officer clutched her datapad to her chest like a shield and watched in terror as the Wookiee sniffed the plant on her desk and stuffed the leaves in his mouth.

“Wikk!”

He turned around to face her with strands of green hanging out of his mouth.

“I told you to follow me!” Captain Phasma stalked over to him, grabbed him by the elbow and dragged him towards the door. While passing the officer, Phasma gave a short apology. “Please excuse the hostage. He’s apparently hungry.”

“Okay…” the officer said through wavering voice.

“Don’t ever leave my side again.” Phasma chastised as she took them back to the turbolifts. “You know I’m supposed to keep you alive, right? There are people with blasters all over this ship…”

“GGRRWGGNGG. GHRNG.”

Phasma looked over at him having no idea what he said.

“Please don’t speak with your mouth full.”

* * *

Wookiees eat a lot, but pound for pound it averaged out much like a standard human’s quantity intake. Children eat a lot, and pound for pound it was generally on average more food until it evened out once the child reached adulthood. Wookiee children, on the other hand, were bottomless Sarlacc pits with questionably horrid tastes. Phasma watched Wikk mix bean butter paste with his fish sauce preservative then smear it all over a hydrated livercake and eat the whole thing in one bite. He smacked his lips and elicited a quiet grunt of satisfaction before making another.

The whole canteen was staring at them. Not many people had seen a Wookiee child eat before. Phasma had already ingested a tube of protein paste before working on drills and was not very hungry, but even if she had entered the canteen with an empty stomach she doubted she could eat after witnessing Wikk grovel down his choice of cuisine.

She must have been staring because he looked into her visor and then growled, placing his arm longways across the table and trapping the food to his side.

“I wouldn’t eat that anyway.” She didn’t really have to say so but felt impatient enough with him to comment.

Wikk ignored her and ate a Hutt’s weight of food before he was satiated.

* * *

It hadn’t occurred to Phasma that Wookiees would need to expunge their bodily wastes until Wikk disappeared in her private bathroom and didn’t come out for close to an hour. At least she knew he was potty trained. She went in shortly after and was hit with a pungent, rancid odor. Long strands of brown hair littered the entire floor. Unsure how well Wookiees cleaned up after themselves, Phasma glanced at Wikk’s butt to make sure there wasn’t anything dangling on his fur. Apparently he was well trained because she didn’t notice a thing. Unfortunately, he did.

“HRAWWWNGH!” he said, shielding his butt with his hands.

“I was just making sure you adequately cleaned yourself.”

“RWWNG RAWH RAWH RAWH!”

Phasma looked up to the ceiling in frustration. She was sure he was chastising her but she wasn’t completely sure what he was saying. Regardless, it was time to brush up on her Wookiee phonetics.

* * *

For the rest of the night, Phasma studied Wookiee translation guides on her datapad while Wikk lay on the hard couch and watched a holodocumentary about the life of Gungans on her brand new First Order commissioned holovision she had one of the stormtroopers retrieve for her on the double. His laugh was loud and grating, cycling every few seconds.

“What are you watching?” she asked him. The only reason she did was so that she could practice her translation.

“RWAWNG WAHHR RAAWHNG,” he said, getting up off the couch and using highly animated hand motions to describe what he had just watched. “HRNGARW GRAWWN HRAWR…” She thought she heard something about a cat. “HRNGGAR…” Or maybe it was a bat?

Wikk went on and on until Phasma realized he wasn’t going to stop. He was also very excitable at this stage seeing that he had a willing listener. “GRAWNN HURRN RAWN GRRNF…”

Phasma was catching words here and there from his monologue, however he was practically hopping up and down in his eagerness to talk. She had forgotten he was a child until now when he displayed a blatant lack of social awareness and an inability to rein himself in.

“Okay, Wikk, settle down!”

“HRAWNGGRAH GRUHWN…”

“Wikk! Shut up!”

She was too late. He spread his arms wide in a fast motion, accidentally hitting the holovision and flinging it across the room. It smacked into the wall and cracked open, cackling out fizzles of escaping electricity.

Wikk looked over to Phasma with his hands over his mouth in silent guilt. Phasma sighed and was at least glad he had finally stopped talking.

* * *

The Captain set up a bed for him on the couch even though he was a few inches too long to sleep on it properly. Wikk looked from the couch to her and back to the couch in confusion.

“This is where you’re sleeping,” she informed him. He shook his head no and grunted his disapproval. “You could go sleep in the brig if you prefer.”

Wikk pointed to her room and she tried hard not to bark out a laugh. “No, that’s where I sleep.”

He paid her no heed. In a flash he was running to her room.

“Get back here, you Wookiee runt!”

He slammed the door in her face and she knocked on it with a forceful menace. “Open the door, Wikk!”

He trilled out a threat which she didn’t take too kindly towards.

“If I have to come in there and carry you out, you can guarantee there will be no candy for you tomorrow!”

“RWAHRARAH!” It was as stereotypical a reply as a child could say.

“Oh, you would, would you?” she shouted through the door as she punched her security clearance into the lock. “Just watch me!” A stereotypical reply deserved a stereotypical retort.

The door slid open and Wikk ran from her. She caught him by the fur, causing him to cry out, and pulled him onto her shoulders in a fireman’s carry.

Most star destroyers were built to service an average sized human about six feet in height and of the thin, space-dwelling kind. Her quarters were not well matched against a 6’7” well-built Parnassian warrior and a 5’11” screaming Wookiee child.

Wikk snatched onto anything his hands could grab at, toppling her desk to the floor. She tried to carry him through the doorway but was stopped short when Wikk latched onto the frame and pulled back on her so that she was forced to brute her way through. Phasma leaned forward, putting all her strength into yanking him free of the frame. His grip was strong and instead of him letting go, part of the wall tore free. Suddenly they were both hurtling into the living room from the released momentum, crashing to the floor with a terrible racket.

Wikk sat up in a daze and looked around in bewilderment. She placed a hand on her helmet, waiting for the spinning in her head to stop. They glanced at each other, both staring until his expression drooped and he set his face in his hands to cry.

Never had Phasma felt more like an asshole, and this was coming from a woman who had murdered more than her share of people. She crawled towards him and patted him on the shoulder, unsure how else to console him.

“There, there…” she said, thinking that might have been something she’d once heard someone say in these kinds of situations. “Everything is going to be okay.”

Wikk sniffled and looked at her forlornly. “WRNRAWR WREN?”

Phasma stared at him in disbelief. She felt played, but capitulated anyway. “Fine. Go ahead.”

He jumped up and ran into the bedroom, diving onto the bed with a satisfied smile.


	2. Some Kids Love Violence

Phasma’s childhood was spent evading ambushes and not getting eaten by wild animals or cannibals. Naturally, she was a light sleeper.

Unlike her, it stood to reason that Wookiees, being at the top of the Kashyyyk food chain, would have the luxury to sleep soundly and not even have to worry about alerting any predators with their loud snores. Currently, Wikk might as well have been felling trees with a chainsaw, his snores were so loud.

The couch was too short for Phasma’s tall frame, but she hadn’t slept on a hard floor since her cave dwelling days on Parnassos so her back ached while she lie facing the ceiling. She didn’t like the thought of getting used to not having a bed tailored to her body’s specifications anymore. Instead, an ungrateful Wookiee kid with snores the same decibel level as the call of a Rancor in heat was shedding his thick fur all over her sheets for the night.

She tossed and turned on the hard floor, smothering her ears with pillows.

Sleep never came for Phasma.

* * *

Phasma was already back in her armor before Wikk woke up. Calling his name and gently shaking his shoulder did not rustle him out of his dreams. She had to roll him over the side of the bed to wake him. He thumped onto the floor like a bag of protein paste.

“WAAAR!” he whined.

“Get up, Wikk,” she said while he scowled up at her with sleepy eyes. “It’s time for breakfast.”

* * *

Generally when Captain Phasma walked the corridors, everyone on board stepped respectfully to the side for her. Somehow having a Wookiee caused them to push themselves back against the wall until she and Wikk passed and then breathe out in a sigh of relief.

They sat down to breakfast in the canteen and immediately General Hux was tapping at Phasma’s shoulder.

“A word, if you will, Captain.”

Beneath her helmet, Phasma frowned. She turned to Wikk. “Stay here.”

He growled out a confirmation and drank a carafe of juice in one gulp.

Phasma and Hux were huddled in a nearby corner. What he had to say was probably unimportant, but he had a flair for the dramatic, often preferring to meet in darkened areas where he could glance surreptitiously around him like the walls had ears.

“There was quite a commotion coming from your quarters last night,” he said.

“Babysitting is not in my skill set. I don’t know anything about how to handle a child.”

“Well, he’s still alive, so perhaps we should add it to your duty list.”

“This can’t be what you wanted to talk to me about.”

“Quite right. We may have to hold onto the child a little longer. The Wookiees weren’t exaggerating when they said it would take weeks to fire up the mines. Not to mention, they’ve not taken kindly to our right to salvage them. I’ve offered them leniency and given them an extra 48 hours because we need the mines up and running with laborers to work them, but if they are not submissive then our bargaining tool will have to stay with us till we get the Wookiees under our control.”

To Phasma, nothing could sound worse.

“Then perhaps in the meantime we should find a more suitable guardian for the child.”

“Nonsense, Phasma,” Hux said as he gave her a quick pat on her shoulder. “You’ve done exemplary so far.” He walked off with his hands held behind his back and his head higher than he was deserving of. Phasma went back to where Wikk sat with empty plates already strewn about the table.

“HRNN?” Wikk offered her a raw porg foot slathered in a brown gravy with gray chunks.

“No, thank you.” Phasma shook her head. “I’ve lost my appetite.”

* * *

Captain Phasma had work to do and nowhere to put her charge. There wasn’t a person or squad aboard the ship brave enough to watch after a Wookiee prone to temper tantrums.

She took Wikk to the training rooms where the TN unit was already assembled and waiting her instruction. The Wookiee kept by Phasma’s side as she walked down the row of lined stormtroopers, standing at attention for inspection.

“TN-6739,” Phasma barked, looking down at the trooper in disgust, “next time you better have polished your armor before standing in my sight.”

“Yes, Captain!”

“TN-2047, you’re favoring your left leg. Are you injured?”

“No, Captain!” he shouted. “I don’t require medical attention, sir!”

“It had better not hinder your training. TN-3853, last session your baton skills were abysmal. I trust you’ve been practicing in your off time.”

“Yes, Captain!”

“Good. Everyone pair up. Start sparring. Go.”

The troopers picked up their weapons and clashed in skirmishes meant to impress the Captain, but she was hardly enthused. The only person to remotely impress her was Kylo Ren, and even then she doubted he was better skilled than a standard Force wielder.

Wikk trilled something which she understood to be an insult.

“They’re younger in years than you are,” she excused, mostly out of her own hurt pride. “Give them some time and you’ll find they’ll improve.”

“HRRUNGH,” he said, this time with a laugh and she turned back to look at him with annoyance.

“I don’t know exactly what you said, but I believe it was out of rudeness. I will not allow such disrespect aboard this ship. Do you understand?”

Wikk lowered his head. “RAWRG,” he said in apology, making her feel like a bully for berating a child. She pursed her lips and looked away in shame.

“Good. Fine. It’s all right.”

Despite his calm demeanor, she noticed his foot tapping in a quick rhythm against the training mat. It reminded her of the fathiers lined up pre-race at the Canto Bight racetrack. He was trying to hold back his energy but it was siphoning out through his tapping. His efforts to be good was probably torture to a young boy like him.

She nodded to the right and he followed her to the adjoining simulation room. Standing at the console, she powered up a simulation and a bunch of Ewoks were suddenly running around the room. Wikk growled out in confusion and stared wide-eyed at the Ewoks.

“You pick them up and put them in the chute,” Phasma explained. “It’s a game. You only have five minutes to collect as many as you can.”

Wikk scratched his head and pointed at the nearest Ewok.

“They’re just droids simulated to look like Ewoks. They’re not real.”

Still, Wikk didn’t move. Phasma grabbed the Ewok and shoved it down a droid chute. The Ewok made a little ‘woaaaah!’ sound and the counter clicked on to the number one. All the Ewoks began to shriek in panic. Wikk roared out in laughter.

“Go! You only have four minutes now.”

The Wookiee bolted towards the Ewoks as they tried to flee the incoming beast. Wikk picked up little bears and put them under his arms until he sauntered with five Ewoks to the droid chute, shoving them all inside. The ticker counted six.

Phasma left Wikk to his game. She had troopers to train.

* * *

Twenty minutes later Wikk came striding to the Captain, interrupting her as she was dressing down a soldier. The Wookiee tapped her on the shoulder just as she was really cutting to the quick.

“WAAAR.”

“Hold on, Wikk.” Phasma was face-to-face with a stormtrooper, leaning slightly over him in intimidation. “Next time you drop your weapon, you’ll be sparring with me, soldier. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.” His voice shook.

“What is it, Wikk?” She was annoyed that he didn’t seem to have any decorum about waiting his turn, but reminding herself that he was a six-year-old kept her from dismissing him.

“GRUNGHHURR RWEN. RAWRWR.”

“Sorry, what’s this about the droids?”

“RERNRAWRRRRGRMPH…”

“Just show me.”

She followed him back to the simulation room to find all the mini-droids torn apart and in pieces on the floor.

“Exactly what happened here?” Her voice unnaturally inflected higher with each word. It rarely happened that she came upon a situation that dumbfounded her. The counter indicated Wikk’s last game yielded a whopping 94 Ewoks down the droid chute.

“GRUHNGRHURW HENGHRR…” he said as he pointed first at the console then to the broken droids. He was speaking too quickly and Phasma was having trouble understanding. She held up her hands for silence then picked up a broom leaned up against the wall.

“Never mind. Just clean this up.”

“RAWWWWWG!”

Phasma was having none of his complaints and simply held out the broom to him in insistence.

“You will not get to play until you have cleaned up your mess, Wikk.”

The Wookiee frowned but snatched the broom out of her hand and began to sweep up the parts.

“RHUNGWAR GRMM.”

“No, I’m not having the protocol droids clean it for you just because that’s what they’re for. This is your take away lesson. You didn’t pay for this star destroyer so it’s your responsibility when you break my things.”

“HURMPH.”

“Don’t you question me! They’re my things because I have command over them. Have some respect and don’t break anything else.”

“RAWRG,” Wikk warbled a sad apology and swept in silence. Force, it was like he had a dial he used on her to make her feel like shit.

“No, I…” she began, not sure if returning an apology would somehow weaken her influence on him. Instead she pointed up at the counter. “You did very well on your last game. I’m impressed.”

Wikk shrugged humbly but smiled.

“Also, thank you for alerting me to the broken droids. You didn’t do it on purpose. I acknowledge that.”

To her surprise, Wikk grabbed Phasma by the shoulders and pulled her into a furry hug before pushing her back and continuing his task. She was aware enough to know this was a symbol of thanks the Wookiees were known to employ, she just hadn’t expected it to be so…uplifting.

“Yes, well, carry on and let me know when you’re done. I think maybe we can find a different simulation game for you to play.”

A nod of his head signified she was correct.

* * *

The next simulation she set up was a target practice for advanced knife throwing, however Phasma found a box of deactivated grenade shells he could use instead. She showed him how to play and then left him to it so that she could continue training the TN unit.

Two hours passed when Phasma finally remembered she was in charge of a child. She expected the simulation room to be empty once she checked in on him, but he was still there laughing gleefully as only children were prone to do.

“WAAAR!” he called to her, holding up a wooden staff. “WRFF. WRFF.”

“I’m sure many of your peers have one,” she replied. “Do you know how to use it?” Wikk displayed a talent with the staff that she would describe as a novice performance at best. Phasma couldn’t help but laugh when the staff tumbled out of his hands and bonked him on the head.

“GWRRRRAAARR!” he said to her in frustration while rubbing his furry head with his paw.

Phasma snorted out in amusement and pulled out her own silverstaff from her ammo box. “I most certainly can do better.” She made sure to watch his expression when she extended the staff to it’s full length with strong jerks of her hand. Like everyone else, he stared in stunned silence.

Phasma made him step back as she started a challenging simulation against a large pack of hyenax. Twelve simulated predators attacked her from every corner. She showed off her staff skills to the remarkably impressionistic Wikk, who trilled in amazement from the sidelines. In less than a minute she had taken down every hyenax with the grace of a true warrior.

“WAAAR!” Wikk cheered. Phasma beckoned him forward and he came towards her in renewed respect.

“Try this one,” she said as she handed him her silverstaff. It was like she had just given him the keys to an AT-AT. His joy knew no bounds.

Phasma had never known what it was like to teach a child. It was by far the greatest reward she had ever received in all her days training soldiers. Wikk’s eagerness to learn and his unbridled happiness at every minor success was infectious. The Captain spent every day of her life in the First Order teaching combat to dispassionate stormtroopers, but this was the first day she got genuine enjoyment out of it.

By the time Phasma called it a night, Wikk was already stumbling around wearily.

“Tired?”

“RNF. HRGH WRF.”

“You still take naps during the day? I’ll take that into consideration for tomorrow.”

Inexplicably, Phasma’s quarters were in the upper echelon chambers and nowhere near the barracks. It was a long walk to get there. Phasma managed to get Wikk into the turbolift, but he was so sleepy he could barely stand while the gentle hum of the lift lulled him deeper into a trance. She pulled his arms around her shoulders and grabbed his thighs behind her, picking him up onto her back. Piggybacking him all the way to her quarters, they passed by only a few officers that late in the night. Since that morning, the Captain and the Wookiee had demonstrated that people went to great lengths to stay out of their way. Tonight, officers headed down the opposite side of the corridor took one look at the chrome soldier/Wookiee combo and noped in the other direction.

Inside her quarters, Phasma gently placed Wikk on the bed and went to get clean. When she emerged from the bathroom, Wikk was no longer on the bed. A quick inspection found he had taken up his space on the couch. Surprised and pleased by his generosity, Phasma slept better in her own bed, too tired to be wakened in the night by Wikk’s snoring or annoyed by the stray Wookiee hairs in the sheets.


	3. Bedtime Stories With Built in Morals to Tell Your Kids At Night

Phasma was up before Wikk again. She found him curled up on the floor apparently having fallen off the couch some time in the night, and prodded her chrome boot into his rib.

“Time to get up, Wikk.”

He waved her away and turned around to get more sleep. She pulled him up by the arm and dragged him towards the hall.

* * *

Wikk looked at the tube of protein paste suspiciously while Phasma addressed her JN unit. They were scheduled to practice melee weapons that morning.

“I’d like to see better technique today,” she said to her unit before pointing to Wikk. “Let’s see you do better than a six-year-old, or suffer the shame of being overshadowed by a child.” She turned around and noticed Wikk had ingested the paste and the tube it came in.

“RWGAAAR.”

“We can get more, but perhaps next time spare the packaging.”

* * *

After a good rest, Wikk was performing better than he had the last night. Phasma felt a conflicting surge of pride for her prodigy and disappointment for her troopers.

“JN-3887! Arms down! You’re leaving yourself open!”

“Sorry, sir!”

“JN-1911! Less arms and more hips! You’re wasting all your power on weak moves!”

“Yes, Captain!”

“Wikk! Good foot work! Try to swing with both hands!”

“RNF WAAAR!”

For a hot second, the entire JN unit froze in their tracks and glanced at each other in shock. No one could believe the Captain was capable of giving a compliment. They were all stunned back into action when she berated them.

“Get moving!”

Wikk, for his part, seemed to enjoy the sparring more than anyone else. Hours passed and he didn’t lose his focus on the practice. The Wookiee even shunned lunch when Phasma offered to take him to the canteen. Instead they both quickly ingested more protein paste and resumed their training, which was normally how Phasma did lunch anyway.

One JN soldier was braver than the rest and volunteered to spar with Wikk. When he found an opening on the Wookiee, he struck him on the knee with his plastoid sword. Wikk jumped up and down on one leg, howling at the spike of pain at his joint. Phasma came rushing to his side.

“What’s the meaning of this?”

Wikk pointed to JN-2187 accusingly.

“I accidentally struck him on the knee!” JN-2187 cried out in defense.

“RNGAAAAARRR!”

“What?”

“He says it wasn’t an accident,” Phasma translated. “Did you intentionally hit a child?”

“What, no! Well, kind of. I forgot he’s a child. Why are we even sparring him if we can’t hit him?”

Wikk stood up and growled out in anger at JN-2187. He pushed him hard, causing the soldier to stumble and fall onto his back. In the fall, JN-2187’s helmet was dislodged and knocked off his head revealing black hair, green eyes and pale skin. Wikk stared down at JN-2187 in wide-eyed surprise.

“Not okay, Wikk,” Phasma chastised in a firm tone. “It’s okay to knock each other silly during sparring, but under no circumstances do we push.” She noticed his expression turn towards her as his eyes searched her helmet skeptically. She turned to the soldier on the floor. “Replace your helmet, soldier. Standard protocol.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Wikk looked at them all in suspicion, glancing from one soldier to another as he slowly backed away.

“Is there a problem, Wikk?” Phasma didn’t like the concern bubbling in her stomach due to Wikk’s behavior. She’d never really had this feeling before.

The Wookiee turned and fled into the corridor, eliciting a scream from a passing officer.

“Keep sparring!” Phasma called out as she ran after him.

* * *

Phasma didn’t see which direction Wikk went but followed the screams of officers down the halls until she caught up to him unintentionally scaring more officers coming out of a turbolift.

“Force…” she cursed irritably as she pushed Wikk in and pulled everyone else out. “The General informed everyone there was a Wookiee on board. Stop your screaming.”

They were alone in the turbolift. Phasma paused the ascent and turned to Wikk with as much patience as she could muster.

“You seem to be experiencing some emotion. It would help if you told me what is bothering you.”

“GRAAAAAAAAAAAWG.”

“It is clearly not nothing. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Wikk stared at her in contempt and struggled not to yell at her.

“RAWRHMFF!”

“That's preposterous. When did I lie to you?”

“GRRRRNGH.”

“Never told you what?”

“HERNG HEFF.”

Phasma couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She had no idea he hadn’t known this whole time. She recalled the past two days and couldn’t remember if she took off her helmet in front of him or not.

“I thought you knew I was human. What did you think I was? Some kind of armored alien?” Wikk shrugged and trilled out a reply. “Really? You thought my armor was my skin? That’s a new one.”

“HRGGMFF.”

“I do not think you’re stupid! Stop it. You’re a bright boy and an excellent student to boot.”

Wikk folded his arms and looked away in doubt.

“GRWNGRAAW.”

Phasma sighed and lifted her helmet off her head. The Wookie glanced over at her, giving her a double take, then his jaw dropped in further surprise. Wikk’s eyes bore into her white-gold hair like he was seeing a miracle.

“WAAAR…”

By this point, Phasma was sure he was not calling her by her actual name. It was too late to correct him now though.

“See? Completely human.” She pulled her helm back on and resumed the turbolift back to the training floor.

“GRRUNGWAAAR!”

“Yes, of course I’m really me. I’m not sure what you mean by that.” There was no time for him to explain. The turbolift doors slid open and the woman wearing Sergeant’s stripes standing before them took one look at Wikk and screamed out in jazz-hand-waving terror. She tripped all over herself to run away.

Phasma frowned in the direction the officer fled. “I’m beginning to think everyone on board this ship is a speciest…”

* * *

With another long day behind them, Phasma took Wikk to the officer’s canteen for dinner, this time without her helmet on. She was the only stormtrooper who was considered an officer so it stood to reason there were no other stormtroopers for Wikk to have seen remove their helmets. The mystery of how he had misjudged stormtroopers to be an entire alien race of soldiers was starting to make sense.

“A word, if you will, Captain.” Hux was suddenly at her side, nodding his head towards the darkened corner.

“I’ll be right back, Wikk,” she told him. “Do avoid the bean butter paste. It doesn’t agree with your stomach.”

Wikk waited for her to leave before grabbing for the bean paste.

“There’s been some slight mishaps down on Kashyyyk,” Hux began as soon as he had glanced in every direction to make sure they weren’t being eavesdropped on. “The Wookiee child will have to stay on board for another two days.”

Phasma wasn’t as upset by the news as she had been the first time he had approached her with an extension of Wikk’s stay, however Wikk being away from his family for so long and still under the means of a hostage unsettled her.

“By that time he’ll have been off-planet for five days,” Phasma said. “Perhaps there’s another way to motivate the Wookiees than through threats.”

“What are you proposing, Captain?”

“We return Wikk to his family and compensate them with something. The Wookiees are always in desperate need of silver solarium. Give them a supply and maybe they’ll be more cooperative.”

Hux contemplated it before upturning the corner of his mouth into a smile. “I believe you’ve hit upon something there, Captain.” Without explanation he turned on his heel and headed for the door.

Phasma went back to Wikk and sat down to a table filled with bean butter paste, livercakes and fish preservatives. It seemed to be his favorite combination of food. It made her stomach turn just looking at it.

Wikk noticed her staring at him. He stopped to offer her one of the livercakes he had made.

“No, thank you.” She waved away his offer. Wikk shrugged and ate his fill.

* * *

In her quarters that night, Phasma made Wikk clean up before he could touch anything in the room.

“You smell like a wet Wampa on Dagobah,” she said, holding her nose.

“RAWWG!”

“No complaining. Get in the refresher.”

While he was taking a shower, Phasma exchanged her armor for cotton pants and a tank top. Wikk came out smelling better though she wasn’t sure how he was drying his fur while in the refresher. As long as he wasn’t leaving a mess, she didn’t care.

As soon as he saw her he gawked with a weird trill she couldn’t understand. She had to bat away his hands when he reached for her bicep.

“Personal space, Wikk!”

He pointed to his own arms and ranted something quickly that she could barely make out.

“You need to enunciate. I have no idea what you mean about metal.”

“GRAAAHUNG GREE.”

“Did we not already establish that I’m human?”

“HAHRGRAH.”

“Well, you’re right in that I am very white, however, and you may not know this, but it is impolite to point out the color of my skin. Isn’t it rude to talk about other Wookiee’s fur color?”

Wikk shook his head and pointed to her hair, saying something about it being gold.

“I guess hair color is generally all right to point out.”

“WAAAR! HRUNG HUH. HRUNG. HUH. HRUNG HUH…” He shrilled out the words ‘gold’ and ‘metal’ over and over again, using his hands to try to get her to see the connection. She arched her brow and side-eyed him but was lost in confusion. Seeing he wasn’t getting anywhere, Wikk gave up and shot her a look of annoyance.

“We’ll try again tomorrow. For now it’s time for bed.”

He pointed to the bed with a hopeful expression.

“Why don’t we arm wrestle for it,” she said. He readily agreed.

They sat at the table with their elbows resting on the hardtop and their hands clasped in a death grip. Phasma counted down and as soon as she said ‘go’ she pushed Wikk’s arm to the table.

“I win.”

“HRRANGH HAR!”

“How could I have possibly cheated?”

“GRMPH WRARAWR.”

“Fine. Best two out of three.”

She counted again and this time gave him a five second fighting chance before slamming his hand to the table.

“HRRAAAAAAAAAW!”

“Really. Just because you’re a Wookiee doesn’t mean you’re stronger than me.”

“RWER RAH.”

“Humans are not supposed to be weak. I’ve literally just shown you that.”

“GRAHW?”

“Only because you asked nicely. You can use both hands this time if you’d like.”

He nodded and put both his hands in one of hers. She counted down, gave him ten seconds to try to win, then pushed his hands down to the table with some slight trembling in her muscles. As soon as he had lost, Wikk threw up his arms in resignation and made a growl of discontent. It was a very childlike motion, all sad but playful and cute. Very rarely did Phasma ever laugh but she couldn’t help herself this time.

“What’s fair is fair.” She got up from her chair and began picking up blankets from off the floor. “Floor or couch?”

He pointed to the floor and together they made a makeshift bed for him out of the blankets. Having no maternal instincts whatsoever, Phasma turned out the lights as soon as he laid down, resulting in a Wookiee whine that nearly grated her eardrums.

She was abhorred to return in her tone a nearly identical whine that she had never fostered before in her life. “Whaaaat?”

“HRRRGRUNPH.”

Phasma tried very hard and was somewhat successful that she did not reveal how much the idea disdained her. “I literally don’t know any children’s stories.”

Wikk wasn’t having her excuse. He told her that she had to know some stories, because he’d never met anyone who didn’t. Phasma assured him she knew none and needed to do some work before she went to sleep so he should stop wasting her time. Wikk whined and begged and whined some more until the Captain finally realized that she could have read him a story in the time it was taking to convince him to go to bed without one. Finally relinquishing, she sat down next to him with her datapad in hand.

“Fine, I’ll combine my work with your stories,” she said, going to the last thing she was working on. “Where was I? Right…GT-7843 is showing signs of muscular atrophy, leading me to believe he is experiencing a caloric deficiency. Recommend 15 grams of additional protein to his nutritional intake.”

“WAAAR!”

“Don’t yell at me. I’m trying to read you a bedtime story.”

“GRAAAAAW HURNG PHREE-”

“All right, calm down. Give me a second.” Phasma paused for a second while Wikk made himself more comfortable under the covers. “There once was an empire, ruled by a terrible man,” she began. Wikk peered at her curiously, somewhat surprised that she had managed a normal start to the story, then laid back on his mat. “The empire was filled with horrible people, none of them caring that their actions were causing harm to billions of people. The empire built colonies all over the galaxy, taking everything they could and leaving a wasteland behind it when it had used up the resources. This empire was called the Con Star Mining Corporation…”

Ten minutes later, as Phasma was finishing her story, Wikk was gripping his blanket near his nose so that only his eyes looked up at her in mesmerized fear.

“...And then the hero took her silverstaff and pierced the CEO through his soft gut. Blood and intestines spilled out everywhere. His secretary, who he was having an illicit affair with, stared in horror at the hero as she walked out and escaped in her stolen spacecraft, getting back to her duties before anyone in her command realized she was gone. His death was never pinned on her. The end.”

“GREEAWNGHUR.”

“What some call murder, others call justice. A-T-A-T or AT-AT? Just a matter of how you look at it.”

“HURMPH.”

“Bad people get what they get in the end. That’s a lesson there for you. Now, be a good boy and get some sleep. We have drills in the hangar bay tomorrow morning.”

“GWAAAR.”

“Good night, Wikk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who don't remember, the Con Star Mining Corporation caused a nuclear apocalypse on Phasma's planet of Parnassos about a century earlier.


	4. What's that?, Why?, What for?, and other questions...

Phasma was beginning to realize that Wikk was not a morning Wookiee. She nudged her foot into his rib while he was still sprawled out on the floor.

“If I have to pick you up and carry you to the canteen, you will not enjoy it,” she told him the third time she came to get him out of bed. Wikk rolled over and grunted something. “Well, of course there’s no daylight. This is space.” He grunted again. Phasma was offended enough by his language to pull him up by the fur and drag him out the door. She was right. Wikk did not enjoy it.

Before they had made it to the canteen, Wikk decided it was better to walk there of his own accord, but he did it with his shoulders slumped over in a dramatic case of resignation. In less than a nanosecond, Wikk was back to being wildly happy when he saw there were Coruscant waffles being served in the canteen.

* * *

The TIE Fighter and AT walker pilots had drills in the main hangar that morning. Phasma took to the observation bay to monitor their performance however she quickly found that adding Wikk among the officers made the room feel unnaturally small.

“TC-7364 is lagging. Have him run drills in his off time for the next week.” She made notes as all her subordinates, ten sergeants and corporals standing a full head shorter than the Captain, eyed the Wookiee in the corner nervously.

“I’ll update his regimen,” the sergeant responded. “What about TC-4765? She’s been in the infirmary with Korovian flu.”

“WAAAR”

“Hold on, Wikk. Have TC-4765 do a follow up drill after release from the infirmary. We can assess her proficiency then.”

“WAAAR”

“What is it, Wikk?”

“RG?” Wikk pointed to the behemoth vehicle near the back of the hangar.

“It’s an AT-M6 walker,” Phasma responded casually as she made some notes in her datapad.

“GRA GOR?”

“It’s used for heavy assault.”

“RMPH?”

“Because it’s good at invasion strikes.”

“Captain,” a young stormtrooper came in carrying a datapad and handed it to her. “These are the recent drill times for the PT unit.” Captain Phasma took it from him and read down the list.

“WAAAR?” Wikk pointed again. “RG?”

Phasma glanced up to see what he was pointing at. “That’s a stealth TIE,” she said before going back to the list.

“GRA GOR?”

“Generally for dogfights.”

“RMPH?”

“Why what? Why is it used for dogfights? Well, why not?”

“Captain, how should we handle the FN unit? There’s a vacancy and we don’t have a body to fill it.”

“Has the entire unit been reconditioned?”

“Yes.”

“Captain Cardinal has the next group of cadets coming in within the next few days. We’ll fill the slot with one of them.”

“WAAAR. RG?” Wikk pointed again. Too busy inputting her findings in her datapad, Phasma didn’t answer.“WAAAAR!”

“What, Wikk?” she asked in annoyance.

“RG?”

“What are you pointing to? That? It’s an AAL Troop Transport.”

“GRA GOR?”

“To transport troops. It’s right there in the name, Wikk.”

“RMPH?”

“Are you asking why would we transport troops? Why wouldn’t we?”

Suddenly a comm announcement blared and a holoprojection of an officer appeared in front of the group. “Captain, the outer rim is requesting more troops to the Mandalore sector. Please advise.”

“We’re running thin in that area,” the Captain replied. “I’ll examine the reserve and dispatch two units to your location.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

“WAAAR. RG?” Wikk called as he pointed towards the back of the observation deck they were in. She didn’t hear him, too busy with her duties and too many people talking to her. “WAAAR!” He called her name but she didn’t look up. Another officer entered the bay. “WAAAR!!” he screamed causing the entire room to flood in silence. Phasma jerked her head up and finally answered.

“Force! It is too easy to tune you out, Wikk. What is it?”

He pointed to the component on the wall. “RG?”

“It’s an alarm button. Don’t touch it.” She held her datapad to her side and pinched her helmet at the bridge of her nose. “I don’t mean to be rude, Wikk, but I have a lot of work to do. No more questions.”

“RG?”

“I said no more questions, Wikk.”

“HRAAGUR WAAAR HREEGRAAAH”

“I understand, but I can’t a-… No! Stop, Wikk! Don’t push the button!”

“RMPH?” he asked with his finger near the alarm.

“Because all the sirens will go off and the emergency doors will shut us into the observation room. Don’t touch it!”

Wikk lowered his hand but kept his eyes trained on the button. To prevent any problems, Phasma marched over, grabbed him by the hand and pulled him away from it. “No temptations.” The officers and troopers stood out of the way as she went back to her spot and placed him by her side.

“WRNG”

“You say you won’t, and you mean you won’t… But you would.”

He grumbled and watched the stormtroopers in the hangar below run their drills while Phasma continued to be accosted from all sides.

“Captain, here’s the data you asked for.”

“Good.”

“Captain, there’s a problem with the JN unit…”

“What’s the problem?”

“WAAAR”

“Not now, Wikk.”

“Captain, I need your sign off here…”

“What am I signing?”

“Captain, there’s a discrepancy in the manifest.”

“Where?”

“WAAAR”

“Hold on, Wikk.”

“Captain, the General is asking for an update.”

“Captain….”

“WAAAR!”

“Captain!”

“Captain!”

“WAAAR!”

“Captain!”

“WAAAAAAR!!!”

Wikk roared out in frustration, accidentally backhanding an officer. The officer stumbled backwards, slamming into the wall, his butt bumping square onto the alarm. Red lights pulsed and a high blare whined out in warning. Suddenly the entire observation deck was closed off as steel walls came slamming down along the windows, shutting everyone off from the outside. Everyone turned their attention to the Wookiee who stood with his hands covering his mouth and a look of instant regret crossing his face.

Phasma’s first instinct was to wrangle Wikk’s neck, but she took one giant controlled breath and found her patience.

“Explain yourself, Wikk,” Phasma said in edged control.

“WRNGRHAA…” he replied hesitantly.

Phasma sighed and shook her head. “You’ll have to wait until the General clears the alarm. Do you think you can hold it?”

* * *

Within ten minutes, the observation deck was reinstated back to normal and Wikk ran towards the nearest bathroom with his hands pressed against his crotch.

“Make sure you wash your hands!” Phasma yelled to him through the door. She was standing in a hall where groups of stormtroopers marched by, saluting her while she pressed her ear to the door. Afterwards, Wikk came out smiling in relief.

“I don’t want to know how close we all came to shuffling you into the corner of that observation deck.”

“GRUAWW”

“I said don’t tell me.”

“Captain,” a TIE pilot came up to salute her. “The squadron is ready.”

Phasma groaned. During the events of the last half hour, she had forgotten to find a place to stash her Wookiee child for a while. It was too late to set him up in the simulation room and she didn’t trust anyone else on board to treat him like anything more than a prisoner. She glanced over at Wikk as he tilted his head to the side in wonder at the uniformed pilot. If she could fit in her advanced TIE, he would probably fit as well.

“Get in your ship, TB-5677. I’ll be there soon.”

“Yes, Captain.” The pilot marched back to the hangar. Phasma took Wikk by the arm, giving him orders as they walked.

“We’re going down to the main hangar. March forward and do not run around. Do not point and stare. Do not touch any of the ships.”

“HRNG?” Wikk didn’t quite understand until they passed through the threshold and suddenly he was within the giant hangar where all the vehicles were kept. His jaw dropped comically as they passed an AT-AT for the first time. He raised his arm to point and she slapped it down.

“I said don’t point! No need for questions right now. We have a time commitment and I can’t stop to explain everything to you.”

“HREENPHURM”

“Yes, perhaps later. But not now.”

“NNKAY”

They walked past the rows of TIE Fighters until they came to a group that were already hovering in mid air above their stations. They kept walking until Phasma headed him to a red and black TIE with different solar panels. This one was shaped so that they were triangular with very sharp pointed edges.

Phasma took him up the ladder and into the cockpit, strapping him into the navigator’s seat. Buckling him in was like having a giant, hairy toddler who wouldn’t sit still long enough to tighten the straps.

“Stay still!” she ordered. She was very thorough with his five point harness; much more thorough than she’d ever been with anyone in her life.

He reached over to touch a red lighted button. “Don’t touch that!” She grabbed his hand and made him put it in his lap. “You’re not allowed to touch anything in here, do you understand me?”

Wikk nodded his head. His eyes made quick glances at the shiny button. Phasma sighed and spoke into her comm.

“BR-0865.”

“Yes, Captain?”

“Bring to me a tarp and a roll of bonding strips.”

* * *

With the secondary navigation controls covered by the tarp and safely taped down. Phasma sat in the pilot’s seat and hovered it into the air.

“TB squadron, ready on my command.” There was a string of received calls from each TB pilot giving their ready until Phasma got each answer and prepared for take off. “3…2…1…Engage.”

Phasma pulled her throttle and the TIE zoomed out of the hangar with a high pitched cry. 24 other regular TIE’s followed.

Wikk felt the sudden force push him to his seat and then yank him forward when Phasma decelerated quickly. “HREEEEEEEEEE!!!!” he cried out, raising his arms in the air.

“Did you say something , Captain?”

“Disregard,” Phasma answered, looking back at Wikk for quiet.“Engage crossfire maneuvers. Mark.”

The TIE’s crisscrossed in a standard evasive tactic. One ship left the pattern.

“TB-7776. You’re out of alignment.”

“Sorry, Captain.”

“GRRRRRWWLLLL!”

“I’m not doing a barrel roll, Wikk,” Phasma chastised. “This is a training drill.”

Wikk grunted out a pity growl and crossed his arms irately.

For the next hour, Phasma instructed the squadron to make several formations then demonstrate their tactical skills. Each one did so in succession until Phasma was satisfied and made them head back to base.

The squadron landed into the hangar first and Phasma followed in her sleek TIE. She gently set down the ship and looked back at Wikk. She had thought he would have been happy to have just been inside a TIE fighter. For all she knew, he was the first Wookiee to ever have taken a ride in one. Instead he was slumped in his chair with a pathetic look on his face.

“I could not find a moment to do a barrel roll,” she explained. He simply nodded his head in understanding and did not complain. She would have thought that would be satisfactory, but somehow it was worse when he acquiesced without a fight.

Phasma sighed and lifted the TIE back up in the air. “Comm One, this is Captain Phasma. I’ll be taking the stealth TIE out for another test. Estimated time fifteen minutes.”

“Understood, Captain.”

Phasma went full throttle and blasted out of the hangar again, this time with excess speed that had the remaining troopers in the bay pushed back by the force of her twin engines. Wikk immediately straightened up and clapped in glee.

“Hang on, Wikk,” she said as she pitched the TIE down and rolled it like it was caught in a cyclone. Wikk shrilled out in delight, laughing between jerks of the maneuvers and putting his hands in the air for as long as he could before the turbulence caused him to clutch onto his seat.

Fifteen minutes later, Phasma came careening into the hangar, screeching into her spot like a stunt driver. The hatch opened up less than a second later and a Wookiee came stumbling out with his hand to his mouth.

“Can't handle a barrel roll?” she asked in amusement. No one within ear shot could believe what they were hearing. It had crossed their minds that perhaps this Captain Phasma, who had just climbed out of the cockpit, implied she'd flown barrel rolls, and made a subtle joke about it, might have been an imposter.

The Wookiee ran around for a few steps before grabbing a storm trooper and yanking his helmet off his head. He wretched into the helmet, heaving in relief, then handed the helmet back to the storm trooper.

“RAWRG” Wikk said with a heavy tone of guilt.

“He said he was sorry,” Phasma translated for the the trooper who simply stared at the Wookiee in shock. The Captain took the helmet and prodded it into the trooper’s chest so that he was forced to take it. “Have this cleaned up immediately, KM-6284.”

“Yes, Captain.”

All eyes stared at the tall, shiny storm trooper as she led her Wookiee charge out of the hangar.

* * *

“A word, if you will, Captain.”

Phasma was beginning to dread the phrase. She looked up at Hux who jerked his head towards the darkened corner of the canteen before glancing back at Wikk already stuffing his face with food.

“No bean paste, Wikk,” she said, before following the general to the area they could chat in secret.

“You’re going to tell me to keep him longer on the ship?” Phasma surmised, crossing her arms and giving Hux a glare.

“Maybe?” he replied, reminding her she already had very little faith in him as it was. These non-committal answers certainly didn’t help. “I went with your suggestion about the silver solarium. It seems it was all the motivation the Wookiee’s needed to ramp up production.”

“They’re already working the mines?”

“They’re intent on doing it manually until the machines can be repaired and powered up. Perhaps I was a tad too hasty in assuming thirty year old equipment could be turned on with just a flick of a switch.”

“I told you they were desperate for silver solarium.”

“They certainly are…” Hux chuckled with a malicious tone, giving Phasma pause. “Regardless, with the Wookiee child and the silver solarium as our bargaining tools, things are finally going according to plan. We’ll see how the Wookiee’s fare over the next few days and then we’ll really press them under the thumb of the First Order to ensure they never try to defy us again.”

A niggling in her brain kept trying to drive to the surface of her thoughts, but she pushed it away, not wanting to know what it was. “Fine,” she replied, “let’s just return Wikk to his home soon.”

“Yes, I’m sure you want to be rid of him.” Hux nodded. “Are you certain you can handle him? I suspect the occurrence in the observation deck today was rather disastrous and embarrassing for you. Perhaps we can find someone else to leave him in their care.”

“No!” Phasma unexpectedly cried out. She cleared her throat and answered more calmly. “No. I have him under control. There is no one else aboard this ship who would be able to keep him in line like I can.”

Hux gave her a suspicious glare from the corner of his eyes before nodding affirmatively. “Then make sure there will be no more issues with him from now on, Phasma. I know I can rely on you.”

“Yes, sir.”

She went back to her seat where Wikk was quickly hiding the bean paste under the table.

“Is that like candy for you?” Phasma asked in disbelief. It was absurd that he would keep eating something so hard on his stomach and that he would actually think he could successfully hide it from her.

Wikk shrugged and pointed to the cuisine he was proud of discovering. “HRAAAAWG”

“I seriously doubt it,” she answered. “Doesn’t look delicious at all.”

He frowned and continued to make more of his bean/liver/fish combination. “RURF GUR…”

She whipped her head over to stare at him. He hardly seemed concerned about it, but it touched a nerve of her’s all the same.

“I apologize,” she said sincerely. “I won’t be judgemental again.”

* * *

After eating his fill in the canteen Wikk followed her into her quarters rubbing his stomach and complaining.

“RRRNGGG”

“Did I not tell you to avoid the bean paste? Now you’ll be in the bathroom for hours.”

“GRAWWWNGHARRRR”

“I couldn’t disagree more.”

“HARRRGGRRR”

“Nonsense. There’s no judgement behind it. It is simply an objective fact. ”

Phasma removed her armor as they spoke and she noticed him get hyper-focused on her hair when she revealed her face again.

“HRUNG HUH!”

“This again?” she said, rather taken aback. “You’re aware that gold _is_ a metal, correct?”

He pointed at her and repeated himself.

Phasma sighed out exasperatedly and shook her head. “I’m afraid I’m just not following. Don’t roll your eyes at me. I give my subordinates punishment for far less offenses. Now get into bed. Tomorrow, your goal is to wake up without having to be dragged out of this room by your scruff.”

Wikk eyed the blankets on the floor and then her bedroom. She braced herself for an argument but he simply went to the blankets and began to spread them out on the floor. Phasma was surprisingly close to letting him take the bed anyway.

Once he was settled, Phasma went to go turn off the lights, but remembering he was not used to quick good nights, she turned back around. “Do you require a bedtime story?” He nodded his head, so she sat down next to him and began the first story that came to her head. “There once was a warrior who didn’t belong. Although good at tactical aggression, this warrior fled the safety of the clan to find a supposed better life with a different clan. The other clan lacked everything the first one did, and the warrior found that the grass was not always greener. This warrior was named FN-2187…”

Wikk listened intently as she talked about FN-2187 lack of morals and how he had betrayed his clan.

“...and Sol Rivas, the person who lowered the shields to the base, was hunted down and made to pay for his sins by the chrome soldier. To this day, FN-2187 stayed with his clan of traitors and thieves after his string of extremely good luck managed to spare his life for the millionth time. But someday, his fortune will run out, and the chrome soldier will drive her silverstaff through his innards in a feat of glory. The end.”

By the end, Wikk’s brows were knit in confusion.

“WEEEERAAAWR?”

“What do you mean which one is the hero? The chrome soldier is.”

“RMPH?”

“Why? Well, because she makes sure the traitors are dealt with for the good clan.”

“GRRRRRRLHURMURRRR”

“I-…Well, I’m not sure why there are so many traitors in the good clan.”

“GWURNG?”

“Hmm...I’ll admit, the bad clan does seem to have a very loyal set of soldiers. Not many traitors among them. The good clan has tried it’s best to retain spies within the bad clan but they generally have been found to be unreliable and unwilling to betray the bad clan.”

Wikk nodded his head but still seemed confused. Not wanting anymore questions, Phasma got up to turn out the lights. Wikk growled out a word and held out both his long arms so they looked like branches of a hairy tree. Phasma was at first disdainful but didn’t want to hear any whining from him, nor did she want to reject him.

“All right,” she capitulated, coming to him and leaning over so that he could wrap his arms around her neck in a big hug. Desperately trying to suppress the warmth through her heart, Phasma pulled away as quickly as she could.

“Good night, Wikk.”

“GWAAAR”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even though she's telling the stories as fiction, Phasma's still too ashamed to have told Wikk the truth that she was the one to lower Starkiller's shields. Tsk, tsk, Phasma...


	5. Wikk dies in the end...with laughter

Phasma doesn’t need an alarm to wake up at the same time every morning. However, the night before, she set one for Wikk’s benefit. She was already awake when it went off.

Wikk growled out in annoyance and clasped the pillow around his head to drown out the sound. She prodded her boot into his leg with no effect.

“I don’t want to have to use the words ‘rise and shine’,” Phasma finally said. Knowing the way she used the phrase would not be flowery or pleasant, Wikk chose to kick off the blankets and stumble out of the room, but not without his whole body drooping in protest.

* * *

“A word, if you will, Captain.”

Phasma glared up at Hux like she was prepared to bitch slap him. He visibly flinched from the intensity of it. She got up and followed him to the darkened corner leaving Wikk at their table, drinking all the juice straight from the pitcher.

“The _Justifier_ will be rendezvousing with us in one hour,” Hux told her. “Prepare your troops for an officer’s welcome.”

Phasma grimaced. “General Pulver?”

“Yes.”

“It will be done,” Phasma answered with less than zero enthusiasm.

Hux arched a brow at her in perplexity. “I’m not sure I understand the resentment. General Pulver is quite keen on you. I would think you would be flattered.”

There was no way Phasma could ever successfully explain to Hux why she could never be flattered by Pulver. What Hux saw was a reasonably good looking man of tall stature and muscular build whose success illustrated the greatness he modeled for the First Order. Phasma viewed him as a simplistic misogynist who steals the credit of his subordinates to climb higher up the hierarchy ladder and has an odd way of saying ‘trooper’ where his lips pucker out absurdly far and causes the word to form a ‘w’ sound. Trwooper.

“I will try to be flattered,” she replied.

* * *

Phasma decided that it would make more sense to have Wikk play in the simulation room than to have him with her during the welcome. It was less to do with concern for his appearance in the main hangar and more to do for Wikk’s benefit so he wouldn’t have to attend something so formal and boring. She set him up and had a few storm troopers guard the doors. If he decided to leave, at least someone would alert her of it.

She was strict on order and so it stood to reason that the lines of troopers standing at attention were meticulously aligned while the shuttle from the _Justifier_ docked in the hangar. The only one standing more front and center than she was Hux who watched the shuttle land with a strange smile upon his face. The shuttle plank descended and General Pulver walked down with several of his stormtrooper bodyguards.

“General Pulver,” Hux announced, voice wavering like a fan boy trying to impress his idol with archaic chivalries. He stuck his hand out in welcome. “We’re pleased to have you on board.”

Standing 6’4” and bulky enough to make Hux look like a scrawny stick insect, Pulver shook his hand with less cordiality than Hux probably wanted. “Uh-huh,” was Pulver’s only response to Hux. “Four transports will be delivering the load as soon as they’ve heard I’ve arrived. Have the bays ready.”

“Uh…” Hux would have usually been offended that a man of equal rank was giving him orders, however he was too star struck to immediately feel that way. “Of course.”

Phasma, however, felt queasy when Pulver’s eye met her visor and a wry smile crossed one side of his mouth. He came and stopped in front of her, giving her shiny armor a good once over. “Ah, Captain Phasma. The silver solarium was your idea, was it not?”

“General Hux has executed every measure of the plan,” she said. She knew better than to take credit for something she had too little knowledge of. Up until he had mentioned the silver solarium, she hadn’t even known Pulver’s star destroyer was here to deliver it. It reminded her how often she didn’t like that Hux kept her in the dark.

“Smart and modest…” Pulver replied. His words took on a salacious undertone. “I like that in a woman.”

Not wishing to give him any idea he could possibly win her over, she indicated down the rows of stormtroopers towards the exit. “This way to the bridge, sir.”

They walked side-by-side while Hux struggled to keep pace with the two tallest people on the ship.

“Have you changed your armor, Captain?” Pulver asked. “It looks shinier.”

“There is a higher percentage of chrome mixed in the alloy, sir,” she said. “It is 23 percent more reflective.”

“You’re not going to commend me for noting the difference?” he asked, playfully nudging his elbow into her rib. She hardly felt it due to the metal.

“Well done, sir,” she answered dryly. She didn’t appreciate that he was being flirtatious with her in front of her troops.

“How long will you be on board, General?” Hux asked, sounding a little out of breath. “Perhaps you’d like to stay for lunch? We can discuss the Kashyyyk situation. I’m proud to say it’s going well.”

“Only if the Captain dines with us.”

“I’m afraid I have a duty that forbids me from participating.” She was at least grateful for a viable excuse.

“What’s forbidding you to eat lunch?” Pulver asked, giving off doubt.

“My charge.”

“She means the Wookiee prisoner,” Hux explained when Pulver seemed even more confused. Phasma recoiled at the word he chose to use.

“You have a Wookiee prisoner?” Pulver said in disbelief.

“Yes!” Hux was eager to show off now that he had Pulver’s attention. “I’m using him as a bargaining tool. It’s keeping the Wookiees down on the planet under my control.”

“Huh,” Pulver replied dubiously. “Show me.”

* * *

Phasma was irked by the way General Pulver stared down at an oblivious Wikk while the Wookiee twirled his bo staff, practicing all the moves the Captain had taught him several nights ago. He was hitting the droids with long swings of the staff and laughing heartily whenever he managed to knock back one far enough for it to clunk into the wall. Some of the stormtroopers the Captain had posted to him stood inside the room, giving each other uneasy glances.

She, Hux and Pulver stood up in the observation room above. Hux talked non-stop about the plans he had for the ore (also known as the Kash cache) once it was pulled from beneath the surface of Kashyyyk, but Pulver wasn’t listening.

“...manually pulled half a metric ton of raw Kash cache since yesterday. The silver solarium is needed to wire the mining machines. Its superb conducting qualities are the only metal that can withstand the immense power needed for the massive drills. Of course, they use silver solarium for just about everything on that planet, however we’ll distribute it once the Wookiees prove they can be relied on to keep the quota.”

“What’s it doing?” Pulver had been quiet up until now. He looked on at Wikk with aversion.

Hux also looked to Wikk then deflected. “I’m sure the Captain would be glad to tell you.”

“He’s playing, sir.”

“Playing?”

“Yes, sir. That’s what children do.”

“It’s a child?!” Pulver turned to Hux in disgust. “A child on a star destroyer? Are you insane?”

“Well, I-…” Hux stuttered. Phasma was suddenly unnerved to feel slight approval for Pulver in that moment. At least someone else shared her sentiment. If anything, this would go a long way in halting any more excuses to keep Wikk from going home.

“I’m revolted that you would have a child roaming your ship unattended.” Pulver chastised. “It should be locked away in the brig.”

And like that, Phasma’s approval had vanished. “I assure you he is not roaming free about the ship,” she told him. “I have been keeping watch over him. Please trust that I maintain strict discipline over the child.”

“Yes,” Hux said, wanting to add to the assurance. “He’s even been staying in Phasma’s quarters for extra safety.”

Phasma considered kicking Hux in his backside then and there. She didn’t want Pulver knowing anything else about Wikk. However, right now crisis management was needed. “It has been discovered that the boy responds well to officers taller than himself. Naturally, I have been solely tasked with his upkeep,” she explained, hoping it was satisfactory enough that the general wouldn’t ask anymore questions.

Pulver let a grin pull at his upper lip. “The Wookiee stays in your quarters, eh?” he chuckled. “Yuck. That must be trying for you. However, I’m sure I could find an excuse to have the beast taken out of your hands for the night.” He waggled his brows.

She was glad he couldn’t see the grimace on her face as she stared back in loathing. “I pride myself in remaining diligent in my duties.”

“You’re a very admirable woman, Captain. Don’t hesitate to let me know if you change your mind.”

Their attentions were turned when a ruckus down below caused the three to whip their heads in the direction of the sound. Two stormtroopers were trying to wrestle the bo staff away from Wikk. The Wookiee angrily trilled and gripped the staff harder, yanking it out of the stormtrooper’s hands. Both soldiers were flung away with the momentum of his force. Several more came running in after hearing the commotion.

“It’s attacking!”

Phasma was quick to action, however she was in a bit of a bind. The observation deck was used precisely for that; observation. Getting down into the simulation room required leaving the observation room through the exit, getting into the turbolift down the hall, going down one floor and then entering the simulation room. She went to the comm on the wall that connected to the comm down below. “Go back to your posts!” she shouted into it.

As soon as she spoke, one of the storm troopers panicked and pulled his blaster, aiming it at Wikk. Wikk was quick enough to duck the fire by dropping full bodily onto the ground. The plasma bolt pewwed out of the blaster, straight into the comm receiver, and shorted it out. None of the troopers in the room had heard Phasma.

“Force!” Phasma cursed. She quickly stepped all the way to the back wall of the room, aligned herself at the observation window, and ran full speed.

From below, the six troopers trying to wrangle Wikk heard an explosion of glass above. They all looked up and were blinded by the bright chrome of the majestically falling stormtrooper. Captain Phasma landed bowed on one knee, cape drifting down behind her, causing everyone to stop and stare in silent awe.

“WAAAR!” Wikk yelled out.

“Unhand him!” Phasma said, standing to full height and pointing to her troopers. They all let go and backed one step away. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Captain, this Wookiee tried to harm…!”

“We were, uh, just, um…”

“Did you just jump through that tempered glass window…?”

“I feared for my life…!”

“GRRRRWWWWWAAGGGG…!”

“I thought it was attacking us…!”

Phasma held up her hands and they all fell quiet at the same time. She pointed to her sergeant. “JN-7707, explain.”

“Sir, the Wookiee unexpectedly turned on us. We were only protecting ourselves.”

“HRAAAAWG GRWWAAAAAHHRRRG!” Wikk pointed to JN-7707 and another soldier accusingly. “GRRRWAAAAAAAAAW!”

“He says you and JN-6485 tried to take his staff away from him after you both talked about how he upstaged the JN unit two days ago.”

“He can understand us?” JN-6485 replied in surprise. JN-7707 surreptitiously tried to shut him up by stepping on his foot.

“What JN-6485 means is that we don’t know what it’s talking about.”

“Everyone line up!” Phasma ordered. The stormtroopers assembled shoulder-to-shoulder and stood at attention. Phasma marched back and forth past them with her hands held behind her back. “You are aware that this Wookiee is important for the negotiations down on Kashyyyk, are you not?”

“Yes, sir!”

“And you are aware that those negotiations are contingent on his status, are you not?”

“Yes, sir!”

“And you are aware that his status must be in good health, perhaps better than before he was brought here, are you not?”

“Yes, sir!”

“And you are aware that means any harm that comes to him will be met with hostility by the Wookiees and will destroy any negotiating tactics?”

“Yes, sir!”

Phasma grabbed JN-7707 by his white chest plate and hoisted him so that his feet no longer touched the floor. “Then why the Force are you shooting at him, you piece of wampa shit!”

JN-7707’s feet kicked out and he gripped the Captain’s hands around his plate. “I…can’t…breathe…” She had the plate lifted so that it pressed into his neck. Phasma threw him down to the floor and he lay coughing, gasping in precious air.

“If any one of you touches a hair on this Wookiee’s head, I swear on the lives of every Jedi and Sith, I will _murder_ you!”

The clacking of plastoid echoed around the chamber as the stormtroopers shook with fear.

“JN-7707! Take your unit to the aerobic room. Every one of you will run 20 kilometers before lights out. Go!”

The unit hustled away as quick as they could, disappearing out the door in a flash. From above in the observation bay, Hux and Pulver continued to watch.

“Good show, Captain!” Pulver said as he clapped in a slow rhythm. “Impressive in every way. Stay there. I’m coming down, but I’ll go the long way.”

* * *

It was silent now that Phasma and Wikk were alone in the simulation room. The young Wookiee looked to the floor sadly while Phasma put her hands to her hips and frowned deeply beneath her helm, staring up at the broken window.

“RAWRG” Wikk finally said pithily.

“No!” she replied sternly, turning to face him. “Don’t be, Wikk. It’s not your fault.” She hated that she couldn’t prevent his confusion and sadness.

“RMPH GAAAAAWRR?”

Phasma had no answer for that. Why _had_ her sergeant pulled a blaster on him? She was so angry about that, she was seriously considering murdering him anyway.

“I won’t allow that to happen again.”

He nodded but didn’t seem to have much faith in her words. She wasn’t really sure what he understood about his situation, but it was clear this had been some kind of turning point for him. Since day one he seemed to think he was on some kind of mandatory field trip, making the best of it and treating her like a teacher of some kind. At this moment, he tucked his chin to his chest and stared at the floor in withdrawn loneliness, having realized his situation might be more dire than he first realized.

It was odd. Something in her chest was being twisted, like squeezing blood from her heart. She had the desire to comfort him, though she’d never done anything of the sort in her life, and she certainly didn’t know how.

_What would a Wookiee do?_

While he stared away, Phasma slowly reached her hand out to Wikk, nearly touching his shoulder, ready to draw him into a hug. Because _that’s what a Wookiee would do._

The door to the simulation room slid open and Phasma dropped her arm to her side before Wikk or Pulver noticed it.

“Force!” Pulver said as he looked up to the broken window. “That was a high leap, Captain.”

“The cape slowed my descent.” She adjusted the clasp around her neck, making sure her cape was properly arranged.

“It’s a beautiful cape,” Pulver agreed. “For a beautiful woman, of course.”

Wikk glanced over at Phasma and she wasn’t quite sure what to make of his look other than he seemed even more confused than before.

The door to the room opened again and Hux appeared, slightly out of breath. “My god! Look at the state of this room! Phasma, get this cleaned up!”

“Now, now, general,” Pulver calmed him down. “She was protecting the negotiations on Kashyyyk. Your negotiations, if you recall, so have some respect. Why don’t we do lunch, eh? Bring your Wookiee, Captain. There will be no excuses as to why you can’t join us.”

Sensing there was no getting out of it, Phasma gave Wikk a solemn shrug and resigned to following Hux and Pulver to the officer’s lounge.

* * *

While on the way to the lounge, Phasma kept Wikk a few steps back to speak to him.

“Eat fast, no talking, and follow my lead. I don’t want this to last longer than necessary,” she whispered hoarsely.

Wikk leaned over and trilled near her ear.

“GREEEEEWURGH?”

She whipped her head to face him, stunned that he would even ask. “What? You’ve seen my face. You still didn’t realize I’m a woman?” she continued in a harsh whisper.

Wikk shrugged and growled again. “HURNGGGMPH”

“No, it’s Wookiees that all look alike. By human standards, I’m clearly a woman.”

Wikk pointed to Hux. “GRRRMPH GRAAAGHH”

“You’re actually wrong. General Hux is a man.”

“GRRRUH?” Wikk looked at the General in wide-eyed surprise.

“Yes, now put your hand down. I don’t want him seeing you pointing at him.”

“What’s he saying?” Pulver turned to ask.

A hesitant second was all Phasma needed to think up a quick lie. “He’s asking if negotiations will be handled soon. He’s anxious to go back home.”

“Lucky thing I’m here,” Pulver responded as they entered the lounge. “It’s because of the silver solarium that this deal is going so smoothly. Though I don’t know what it has to complain about. It gets food, water, recreation…” Pulver sat down at his chair, looked straight at Phasma, and patted to the one next to him, “…and the best place to sleep on the whole ship.”

Unknowingly, Pulver was doing the opposite of his intent. Trying to sweet talk Phasma was like giving a sack of sugar to a diabetic.

Hux had already placed himself opposite Pulver and Phasma didn’t want Wikk sitting near the vile general, so she sat down where Pulver indicated and had Wikk sit in the seat on the other side of her.

Pulver had seen Phasma’s face before. Their ships had once escorted a _mega_ -class dreadnought and the division officers on the ships often held meetings together. Generally she was stared at out of surprise that she was not ugly, nor manly, nor hideously scarred beneath the helmet, but Pulver was different from the others who stared out of curiosity. He was a man given many things despite wanting the chase. Phasma not only proved to be an exceptionally attractive and skilled person, but also a challenging one to attain. It tantalized men like Pulver into obsession.

The food was placed down in front of them by protocol droids and Wikk wasted no time in scarfing his up. Phasma felt the weight of Pulver’s anticipation as he stared patiently at her, waiting for her to remove her helmet. Figuring now wasn’t going to be any worse than later, Phasma lifted it off her head.

“Gorgeous…” Pulver breathed out. Phasma wanted to vomit.

“When is the next negotiation meeting on Kashyyyk?” Phasma asked, wanting to avoid Pulver as much as possible.

“Tomorrow,” Hux replied. “After only six days, the Wookiee’s have gotten quite desperate.”

“I would think the head leader of the Wookiee council would follow orders by now,” Phasma replied. “Certainly a father would do anything to get his son back.”

“Oh, he’s certainly eager to have the child back. He’s gone quite mad about it, to be honest. Would do anything at this point.”

“Then what is holding the negotiations back?”

“The drills are still not functional. Currently the ore mined in the last few days have all been ripped from the ground manually but it’s not enough to reach the quota.”

“But don’t they need the silver solarium to run the drills?” Phasma questioned.

“That’s right,” Hux stated.

“But…” Phasma said slowly, trying to understand his angle or why he wasn’t understanding hers, “don’t they need the drills to reach the quota?”

“Correct.” Again, Hux stated it matter-of-factly with no other follow up. She wondered if he had a brilliant plan in motion or if he was really that stupid.

“Then, why is the silver solarium still on our ship?” she finally asked.

“For the negotiations, of course.” This time Hux raised a brow at her like _she_ was the stupid one. “Once they get more desperate, we’ll hand it over and they can start up the drills.”

There were so many questions she had. Why not, at this very moment, give them the silver solarium they shipped in specifically to run the drills? The Wookiee’s are already desperate, why make them any more so? If this quota is so important, why was Hux stalling it for so long?

“I see,” was all she responded.

General Pulver clapped her on the thigh and her hand instinctively formed into a fist. Luckily he didn’t notice before she remembered striking a general was not in her best interest. “Smart and humble!” he exclaimed, looking admiringly at her. "Never has there been a more impressive storm trwooper!"

There it was. Phasma stared neutrally back at him, realizing that if she were a gambling woman she could probably hold her own as a player with no tells.

Pulver continued. “You can’t fool me, Captain.” He leaned towards her with his lips uncomfortably close to her ear. “The silver solarium plan? I know that was you.”

She leaned away from him to give him a quizzical look. He winked at her and shoved a forkful of food into his mouth.

“I simply suggested the Wookiees would need it,” she replied. “Nothing more.”

“You’re just too strong a woman to take a compliment.”

She couldn’t understand how his praise could make the contents of her stomach want to upend themselves, but the evidence was right there in her gut. She stared at him in confusion.

“REEEEGRAAAW”

Without looking, Phasma grabbed the spice shaker near her and placed it on the table next to Wikk. He picked it up and shook out a generous amount over his plate. Pulver’s eyebrows went high.

“I’m still impressed you can understand it.”

“You’d be surprised how easy the Wookiee language is to pick up.”

“Just thank him, Captain,” Hux replied in irritation. “General Pulver is a god among men. A compliment from him is the highest honor.”

“I think you place me too high in regard,” Pulver told Hux with a clear case of annoyance.

“It seems neither of us can take a compliment, General,” Captain Phasma said, wishing Pulver had the emotional empathy to notice the similarities between their responses. “I suggest we dispense with it all together.”

“If you wish,” Pulver answered. “I see your hostage is downing a second helping of food. Does it always eat this much?” He eyed Wikk in disgust.

Wikk, despite barely ever paying attention when food was concerned, spoke over at Phasma, giving her half his attention. “RGGRUNG?”

Phasma wished she had the benefit of hiding her face beneath her helmet. For now, she kept a blank expression and simply shook her head. “It’s nothing,” she replied, hoping Wikk wouldn’t ask again. It was the wrong thing to say because he then turned his full attention on her, now suspicious that it was something he wasn’t supposed to know.

“HRN? RGGRUNG?” He put down his fork and looked at her in concern.

Phasma wondered briefly if she should lie to him. She usually had no qualms with being outright deceptive or relying on half-truths, but for some reason she was unsettled by the idea. Unfortunately, she had no way of explaining what the word ‘hostage’ meant nor did she want to.

“What did it say?” Pulver pointed to Wikk.

While she didn’t like the thought of lying to Wikk, she had no problem lying to Pulver. “He said he’s done and has to go to the bathroom.”

“RGG?” Wikk’s eyes went wide in surprise. “WERAAA REEEEGR-”

“He has to go right now,” Phasma insisted. Wikk cocked his head at her in confusion. She stood up and leaned over him, giving him a hinting glare. “If we don’t go now, he may not make it.”

She could see the light in his mind click on. Wikk pushed up from his chair and started doing a potty dance. He was over-exaggerating but it only pressed further the need to leave the room now.

“Well, it can go do it on it’s own, can’t it?” Pulver asked.

“He needs help finding the bathroom. Sometimes these ships are too big for small community dwellers like Wookiees who are used to having everything close by.” Phasma began to lead Wikk to the exit. His potty dance, though helpful to sell the lie, was inhibiting a hasty departure.

“Well, you might as well come back as soon as it’s done. I wouldn’t still be aboard this ship if I wasn’t promised you’d dine with me, Captain.” Pulver had a way of making sure people knew they had an obligation to him without actually directly saying so.

“I will do so,” Phasma replied. “That is, if you’ll excuse me sir, but not until after I, er… put him down for his nap.”

“Nap?” Hux cried out in frustration. “Have somebody else do that!”

“You think it’s easy to put a Wookiee child down for a nap?” Phasma asked. Wikk now made a loud roar of a yawn and stretched his arms out, nearly touching the ceiling. That too was terribly exaggerated, but neither Hux nor Pulver seemed to really notice. “No, sir. For the safety of my soldiers, I trust only myself to keep them and the Wookiee child from harming each other. You saw what nearly transpired down in the simulation room today.”

“The Captain has her priorities,” Pulver finally relented. By now he had to shout as Phasma and Wikk were crossing the threshold of the room, and being awfully noisy about it. “After negotiations tomorrow morning, I will seek you out, Captain, once you are released from the duties of your Wookiee prisoner.”

“RG?!” Wikk stopped just outside in the hall very suddenly, causing Phasma to stumble into him. They both maintained their balance but she slapped her helmet back on and looked down at him in aggravation. Before she could stop him, he tramped back into the room and pointed at Pulver, looking back to speak directly to her.

“RGGRAAAAAWWWW NGGREEEEAAAARAWRRAWR!” he roared out in loud and bewildered rage. His mood had turned so rapidly that everyone had been caught off guard.

It finally dawned on Phasma what the General’s last words had been. Pulver stared at Wikk with a deer-in-the-headlights look, not knowing what he was being accused of and wondering if his life was in any danger at that very moment.

“Force!” Hux screamed. “Get it to the bathroom already! It needs a damned nap like now!”

Phasma didn’t appreciate being scolded by a child in front of her superiors, but Wikk had every reason to be angry. Up until this point, he seemed to have had no idea he was a prisoner.

“Come here, Wikk,” she demanded, inching closer to him and grabbing his wrist. He yanked it free and continued pointing at Pulver.

“RG. GRAAAAAWW. NGR. RAWRRAWR!” Wikk demanded. He wiped away escaped tears forming in his eyes.

“I’ll explain later,” she told him calmly but forcefully. “Now, come with me.”

Hux pulled out his blaster and pointed it at Wikk. From the corner of her eye, Phasma noted the quick motion and reacted with her own. She grabbed the spice shaker from off the table and threw it at his pistol, clipping the barrel just as he depressed the trigger. The plasma bolt blasted into the table. Smoke smoldered out of the plasma hole as Hux stared in shock at both it and her.

“Really, sir?” Phasma chastised. The shot had made Wikk flinch and gave her enough time to pull him out of the lounge and away from the Generals. She could hear Pulver snipe to Hux as they left.

“You know you almost killed your bartering tool…”

Still confused and now terrified, Wikk was dragged screaming down the hallway where officers and stormtroopers all skittered out of the way for the shiny Captain and her shrieking ward. He wailed and yelled and cried, and when she couldn’t stand it any longer, Phasma pulled him into a stockroom and shut the door so that they were alone. She gripped her hands at his shoulders and made him look her square in the helmet.

“Stop screaming, Wikk!” she shouted at him. “You’ve got to calm down!”

Wikk threw her hands off him and yelled back with hot tears sliding down his furry cheeks. “GRAAWAAAAANNGGAR!”

“I know they’ve got blasters! This is why you need to be more careful! These are not reasonable people! They don’t understand Wookiees!”

“RAAAWRRRGRAAAAW!”

“I know I said that! I didn’t let any harm come to you, didn’t I? But I can’t always be there to save you, you know! I need you to focus! You can’t go running around the ship expecting things to be okay!”

“GAARAAARGG!”

“You’re on a First Order ship, Wikk! That’s why! Use your head!”

“RAAUMPH!”

“I’m not in charge of the negotiations! I didn’t take you away! You weren’t supposed to be on the ship this long in the first place!”

“WRAAAGREEGRANGH!”

“Of course, I can! I’m a high ranking captain!”

“RAAAWRAAAAAANGH!”

“I have never lied to you! You have no idea how much I’ve done for you!”

“NNGRRRAAAAAWR!”

“I’m not your enemy! Don’t call me that again!”

“RG GREEHURANGHRANG!”

“The reason he called you a prisoner is because you _are a_ prisoner!”

Wikk was struck in silent, jaw-dropping shock. He gasped, the news of it making him take a step back away from her. Phasma felt the weight of his horror become the bulk of her shame. It was surprisingly heavy to burden and somehow had a way of afflicting her usually firm heart. Wikk put his hands to his face and turned his back to her. His shoulders heaved with his crying.

She sighed and took off her helmet, placing a hand on his shoulder though he shrugged it off as soon as she made contact.

“I’m sorry, Wikk,” she said in a softer tone. He shook his head and whimpered into his hands, trying desperately to control his gasping sobs. “Look, I don’t like to think of you as a prisoner but-”

“RAGREEE RAAWRAAW” he interjected angrily.

She paused to stare at him before hanging her head in regret. “Okay,” she agreed. “I know just where to go.”

* * *

Wikk reluctantly followed Phasma all the way to the broadside observation station. He could see the planet drifting below the star destroyer before they had even approached the giant bay windows and he hurried to it with long strides. Planting his palms on the surface of the glass, he looked down at the planet in longing.

Phasma stood in the back of the room, ensuring no one came in and disturbed him while he stared down at Kashyyyk. Wikk had his head pressed against the window, shoulders still shaking in a silent cry, and eyes trained at one of the continents for a very long time.

Phasma didn’t know what to do. She had troops to train and drills to run and missions to plan, but she didn’t rush him because this seemed much more important than anything else. She guarded the door and watched over him, even though it pulled at deep emotions that had the same effect as feeling kicked when she was down.

“waaar?”

It was so softly spoken Phasma almost missed it.

“What is it, Wikk?”

“rggrung?”

Phasma cleared her throat but crept closer with her hands clasped behind her back. “It’s…basically another way to say prisoner. Hostage means to use someone as a means of exchange.”

He pointed to himself. “agrung?”

She swallowed hard and told him the truth. “Yes. You’re a hostage. Of the First Order.”

He seemed to be thinking hard on it. He pointed to himself again. “agrungaarw?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so.”

“rmphar?”

“Well, you know who your father is, right?”

“kaaaaw”

“Yes, Kalathyya. Has no one told you he’s a very important Wookiee? He’s head leader of the Wookiee Council. It’s because you are his son that you were taken hostage.”

Wikk went silent causing Phasma the overwhelming urge to keep talking in an attempt to give him some comfort.

“I want you to know that your father is desperately trying to get you back. These negotiations are taking a very long time and you should be glad to know it’s not through any fault of your father’s. These blasted generals and their obscenely ridiculous tactics…well, sometimes I’m not sure how the First Order has managed this far. But waste not a single minute in worry, Wikk. Everything will turn out for the best, do you understand me?”

Wikk didn’t seem to be listening. More tears slipped down his fur, prompting her into further reassurance.

“As long as you’re on this ship, you’re under my care, Wikk. I assure you nothing harmful will come to you. I will admit that you did come aboard as a prisoner, but please accept that I do not actually consider you _my_ prisoner. You’re more like my charge. My keep. I would be honored to refer to you as some kind of… surrogate nephew. While you’re on board with me, you have nothing to fear because…I care. I care that nothing happens to you, Wikk. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”

Wikk sighed out and did not seem in the least bit encouraged by her words. His continued misery laid the foundation of her distress. She took off her helmet and knelt down on one knee so that she had to look up at him.

“I want you to know that it’s valid to be sad. Or angry. Or any other emotion you are feeling. It’s not fair for a boy your age to be taken like this and I acknowledge that. On the bright side, the negotiations are nearly done. You’ll be going home soon. You’ll see your father and your mother again.”

Wikk looked down at her without lifting his head off the window. “grrrwr?

She looked remorsefully down to the floor and shook her head. “No,” she said just above a whisper. “Not today.”

Wikk turned his sight back to the planet with sad eyes. The tugging at her chest inflicted an unexpected amount of pain. She’d once been stabbed between the ribs with a clawhook, and even that had been easier to deal with than the current emotional torment increasing in sharpness with each cutting heartbeat.

“Tomorrow,” she said under a whim of impetuosity. “You’ll be home. I promise.”

He glanced at her hopefully. His eyes roamed her face, looking for truth.

She held out her chrome hand to him. Finally, he smiled and took it.

* * *

Phasma discovered that nothing was more exhausting than telling a child to do basic tasks such as ‘get in the refresher’ or ‘brush your teeth’. Wikk generally did as he was told without a considerable amount of whining, but the Captain found it was easier to face twenty gungans in battle than to get a child ready for bed every night. It wouldn’t require so much energy if it wasn’t a near constant necessity to make sure Wikk stayed on task. Somehow he always managed to get distracted.

Focus was not a skill Wikk had yet acquired and it was maddening.

“KRWRWRKGKR…”

“Please wait to tell me _after_ you’ve brushed your teeth,” Phasma said with a sigh. “No sense in talking with your mouth full of toothpaste. I can’t understand a word you’ve said.”

* * *

After what felt like three hours but only turned out to be thirty minutes, Wikk was ready for bed. It wasn’t so much the generosity of her heart as it was the weariness of her spirit that Phasma couldn’t bring herself to protest when he dived into the bed.

“I’m not sleeping on the floor,” she told him as she slumped onto the bed beside him. Thinking he would be appalled enough to choose the floor instead of sleep on the same bed, Phasma was overcome with surprise when Wikk actually rejoiced with his arms flung up in the air.

“HARRAAAWWG!”

“What the Force is a slumber party?”

“REEWARGURMPH?”

“No. Never heard of such a thing,” she replied as she pounded her fist into her pillow, finding the correct level of fluff. “Just go to sleep.”

“WAAAR! GRAWWUMPH”

“I don’t believe I’m missing the point at all. It literally has the word ‘slumber’ in the phrase. Perhaps _you’re_ missing the point of a slumber party.”

“RAHAAAR”

Phasma sighed. “Perhaps there is some truth to that. Why else would it also be called a ‘party’?”

“HURAAAANGH”

“Let’s just agree to put more stress on the slumber and less on the party.”

Wikk folded up his arms and pouted out a word. “GRAA”

Phasma turned around and sat up in contempt. “First of all, how do you even know what a killjoy is? And second, I’m more of a guardian and would appreciate it if you would refer to me as such.”

He briefly looked up to the ceiling in thought. “RNAAAAGROR?”

“No, a guardian is not like a god. More like a substitute parent.”

“RAA…GUUUURNG?”

“No, a guardian is not a bad guy. I told you before, I’m not your enemy.”

Again, he seemed confused. “RAA….RAAAANGH?”

Phasma huffed out with a sigh. Children asked the toughest questions. “Well, I don’t think it’s right to call you that. But, your not _my_ prisoner. Therefore, I’m not your enemy.”

“RAA…HAARWAAAH?”

“No, Wikk, you’re not anyone’s enemy, understand? You’re just a boy.” She reached over and ruffled the fur on the top of his head. “A smart, silly, sweet…” Wikk fell over giggling and she tickled his ribs, which sent him further into wild laughter. “…ticklish little boy. Who needs to stop eating the bean butter paste.” She ended off with a pat on his knee and pushed him to one side of the bed. “Now, it’s time for sleep. Please lay down.”

“RAANGRUNGH”

“I don’t see how you’re not. Besides, the sooner you go to sleep, the sooner you’ll see your parents.”

Wikk shrugged. “NGAY”

Phasma nodded once and turned back around to slump into her sleeping position. Wikk was suddenly tucking himself into the covers in excitement, and patting his pillow happily.

“RAAAAAAGERAAARAWRAW!”

“What?” Phasma exclaimed in bewilderment. “There will be nothing to tell your friends because there is no possibility of considering this as ‘doing hard time’. Where do you even pick up such phrases?”

“RAAAAAWERGH”

“You literally were not aware you were one till this afternoon. That is how good you’ve had it on board this ship. If you really want to be a prisoner, you can go sleep in the brig. I can guarantee you that there is less slumber and no party down there.”

“WAAAR, GARAAAAWUMPH” he laughed. She felt him prod his fist into her back. She rolled her eyes, a victim of a six-year-old’s uncanny perception.

“You’re correct. I certainly would not allow you to sleep in the brig. Now, please, I encourage you to lie down and go to sleep. Time will go by faster if you’re not awake to count the minutes till you return to your home.”

To her utmost surprise, she felt his pillow slap her upside the head with a soft smack. Phasma was up in an instant like a battle-hardened soldier.

“Did-…Did you just declare a war?” she asked in disbelief.

“HARRAAAWWG!” Wikk yelled out as he tried to hit her with his pillow again. Phasma easily snatched it out of his hands so that she was now double wielding.

“Just because you’re young, doesn’t mean I will go easy on you,” Phasma said as she clapped the pillows on the sides of his head, making him holler out in Wookiee laughter.

After a flurry of hits, she allowed Wikk to grab a pillow out of her hand, though she dodged each of his attempts as he stumbled all over the quarters just to get in a good strike. She figured he would have had better luck if he wasn’t expending so much energy bursting out in raucous laughter, however the amusement was contagious. Phasma didn’t know she was even capable of such laughter until that precise moment in her life. It was odd but fun, which was another word she had little experience with.

The thing with children is that they’re high energy in short bursts. Wikk spent ten minutes trying to hit her with his pillow, a minute after that pretending he had died from her fluff attack, and the thirty seconds following that lulled to sleep and passed out on the bed.

Phasma shook her head at the Wookiee child with a smile, glad that the explosion of energy expenditure had actually worked. She hopped into the bed beside him and promptly fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if brushing one's teeth is a thing in the Star Wars universe, but let's just pretend it is.
> 
> Thank you to anyone still sticking around to read this story! Sorry it took so long to get another chapter out. COVID has managed to double the work load in my life. How's everyone doing, by the way? I genuinely want to know. Please shoot me a comment about quarantine life even if you've never commented to me before.


	6. All Hell Breaks Loose, No Good Deed Goes Unpunished, and Other Idioms to Live By

Phasma slept well despite the fact that Wikk was a hairy space heater that snored with the timbre of an old freighter engine. Occasionally he spoke in his sleep. In the morning, Phasma surprised him with a question.

“How do you know Chewbacca?”

“HRNG?” he asked, his eyes wide in surprise. “RUUGRUUGAAAHNG?”

“I heard you talk to a Chewbacca in your sleep,” she told him as she snapped on her chrome plates to her legs.

“RGGROWAAAUMPH”

“Is this friend your age? Ah, well, I don’t know if you know this, but your friend is named after a Rebellion war terrorist.”

“HRNG!? HARRGHARRGHARRGGG!”

“You’ve got a point. Terrorists are heroes to somebody.”

“HURRANGHRA”

“Well, you do,” Phasma confirmed. “Perhaps it’s the stress you’ve been under. Anyone in your position would find a way to self soothe, even in sleep.” She clasped her cape around her shoulders and picked up her helmet. “Regardless, you will need nourishment before seeing your family today. It would be an embarrassment if you came home slimmer than before.”

Wikk agreed, anxiously following her out of her quarters.

* * *

“A word, if you will, Captain.”

Phasma grimaced beneath her helm and looked over at Wikk who was shoveling forkfuls of Hosnian pancakes into his mouth. She moved to stand up but Hux was quick to whip up his hand to halt her.

“No need to get up. What I have to say is short.”

Hux was clearly agitated over yesterday’s incident in the officer’s lounge. She had not only humiliated him by thwarting his shot with a simple spice shaker, but had also done so in front of the man he idolized.

“I wish to inform you that the negotiations for your Wookiee prisoner has been postponed till tomorrow.”

“What? Why…?”

“RMPH…?”

“The Wookiees still haven’t hit their quota. Frankly, it’s as though they don’t care about this one at all,” he indicated to Wikk.

“Forgive me sir, but how are they supposed to reach their quota without the silver solarium to wire the drills? It would take a fortnight for all the Wookiees on the planet to manually work that much ore out of the ground.”

“Your assessment has been noted. Even if it was of good judgement, I’d still disregard it since I have already postponed the assembly. Besides, I’m the General here. You simply don’t know enough to offer any advice of value.”

“I don’t understand your tactics. By withholding the silver solarium, you’re not building command, you’re breaking resolve. They’re going to fight back at some point.”

“It’s none of your concern. I have everything under control. That’s all you need to know.”

“Under control? The negotiations keep getting pushed back. We’ve had Wikk on the ship almost a week longer than expected. Perhaps there’s some othe-”

“Stand down, Captain!” Hux suddenly shouted, causing everyone in the lounge to turn their attention to them. “I’ve had enough of your oppositions. It seems to me that you’ve forgotten your place. I’ve had reports that you’ve canceled trainings and drills. If I hear you’re not performing up to standards, perhaps it’s high time I find someone who can!”

“Sir, I am not-”

“Stop questioning me and just do your damned duties!” Hux turned on his heel getting in one last snipe before disappearing out the door. “And send that oversized pet to the brig where it belongs!”

Phasma stared after him in teeth-gritted anger. When she turned to face Wikk, he had his hands clapped to his cheeks in alarm.

“Don’t worry, Wikk,” she told him. “I’ll figure something out.”

“RAWRRAAAAH”

“I promised you I would, didn’t I?” She stopped short of explaining that Hux was at heart a vindictive coward and was only doing this to spite her.

“RAAGRA?”

It was a good question. _How_ was she going to bring him back home today?

Phasma sighed and looked out the window to the _Justifier_ traveling through space beside them. “I’m sure there’s someone Hux will listen to.”

* * *

“Ah, Captain Phasma,” Pulver greeted on his comm channel. “What can I do for a woman such as yourself?”

Phasma’s stomach sunk in on itself at just the sight of him on the screen. She couldn’t imagine how much worse it would have been had they been in the same room. “I am in need of your assistance, General.”

Pulver leaned back in his chair with smug satisfaction. “Well, well, is that so? I’m honored that you would come to me for help. What is it I can do for you?”

“General Hux has postponed the negotiations on Kashyyyk for the time being. I would be grateful if you would talk to him to illustrate how necessary it is to complete these negotiations today. There is no reason to stall the mining any further.”

“I agree that Hux has hampered these developments long enough, however he has been adamant that he be in charge of the entire encounter with the Wookiees. I’m not sure I have any reason to interfere with his affairs…?”

Phasma huffed out in fury under her breath due to his obvious extortion. “I would appreciate it if the Wookiee child was sent home today.”

“Ah, I see. I take it that it’s been an annoyance long enough?”

Though Wikk was sitting just off screen beside her, she hoped he wasn’t misunderstanding her efforts to get him home as an attempt to be rid of him. At the moment, she took Wikk’s little Wookiee hand in assurance that all she intended was for him to be safe with his family as soon as possible.

“If you could find a way to bring the Wookiee child back to his planet, I would be…indebted…to you.”

Pulver slowly leaned forward with intrigue. He licked his lips before responding. “I have just the payment.”

She swallowed hard. “Fine. Once the child is back on Kashyyyk.”

“Good. I’ll be over right away. Have your quarters fumigated.” And with that, Pulver signed off.

Phasma felt her stomach roil. She wouldn’t go through with it, she’d rather murder him then sleep with him, but she would have to figure out how to get out of it later. For now, Wikk was going home.

“RNGRAAAAAARWUR?”

“I don’t know what he meant by ‘fumigate’ either,” she lied.

* * *

Pulver’s shuttle entered the main bay less than twenty minutes later. There was no time to set up an officer’s welcome, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway because Pulver was on a mission. As soon as he stepped off the shuttle, Hux was by his side.

“If I’d known you were coming I would have had an honorable welcome for-”

“No need,” Pulver told him as he walked fast towards the receiving bay. “Get the silver solarium onto the shuttle. I’m taking over these negotiations.”

“What?” Hux cried out, momentarily stunned into a freeze before rushing back to Pulver’s side. “What do you mean? You can’t take credit for my work-”

Pulver whipped around and stood face-to-face with Hux, his scowl piercing instant fear into Hux’s heart. “I’m not taking credit for any of it! Incompetent command, misuse of your best officer, stalled negotiations, Wookiee children running around a star destroyer…you’ve mishandled everything from the very beginning. I’m not here to steal your achievements; I’m rescuing your negotiations from falling through!”

“B-b-but…I…” Hux was reduced to a sniveling child in the presence of the far more intimidating Pulver.

“Get the silver solarium onto the shuttle!” Pulver directed to the nearest storm troopers. “And bring me Captain Phasma!”

* * *

The Captain filled a bag for Wikk with an extendable shortstaff, a mini droid, and a blanket. Any room left was packed with tubes of bean butter paste.

“Make sure you practice everyday,” she told him as she put the shortstaff into one of the pockets.

He nodded his head agreeably. “NGAY”

“And don’t eat all the bean paste at once. You’ll get a stomach ache. Share with your family.” Again, he nodded though she could see suppressed tears threatening to form in the corners of his eyes.

“NGA-” His word was clipped by a catch in his throat.

It felt like her chest was ripping in two. Rather than manage the foreign emotions developing inside, instead she led him out of her quarters towards the main hangar bay. They found themselves alone in one of the turbolifts where she straightened his bag on his shoulder so it didn’t dig into his muscle and patted down his fur so as to look more respectable.

“When we’re down on the planet, wait for the order to go back to your family. Don’t go running out as soon as you see your parents.”

“NGAY”

“Stick as close to me as you can. It’s dangerous down there.”

“DAAAG?”

Phasma paused for a moment. It dawned on her that once he was with his family, she would no longer have the ability to keep him safe. Hopefully his father could protect him. But Phasma knew the conditions on Kashyyyk, and they were not good. “Yes,” she confirmed. “Very dangerous.”

She said nothing else on the way there. Even though he couldn’t see the melancholy on her face, she didn’t want to risk him hearing it in her voice.

* * *

Phasma marched Wikk into the bay where squadrons of storm troopers waited for her presence. They walked down the row as the soldiers saluted her as she passed.

“Ah, Captain,” Pulver greeted with a smirk. “I’ve reserved a space for you on my shuttle. My guards can take your prisoner to one of the transports.”

Wikk looked over to Phasma in alarm. Phasma grabbed Wikk by the elbow and pulled him closer to her. “Thank you, General, however I must travel with the Wookiee to ensure no trouble occurs. If there is no room on the shuttle, then I will stand in the transport.”

“If you insist on personally guarding the Wookiee then I’m sure we can seat him somewhere on the shuttle,” Pulver replied. “However, I must warn you that there’s little space due to the silver solarium shipment taking up a vast amount of room.”

As much as she wanted to avoid General Pulver, she also didn’t want Wikk on a transport surrounded by jealous storm troopers. “That will be fine, sir.”

The platform to Pulver’s shuttle was already lowered and the gleaming metal of the shipment filled up the entire bay as well as parts of the command room. Phasma led Wikk up the platform only to be interrupted by a snide voice behind her.

“Come back quickly, Captain,” Hux said with his hands held behind his back. “As soon as you return, I’d like to see you in my office.”

“As you wish, sir,” Phasma managed to say with only a miniscule amount of contempt. The platform raised once Phasma and Wikk were inside, concealing General Hux’s overt disdain as he stared after them.

They had to maneuver through the shiny shipment towards the front of the shuttle where Pulver and his pilot waited for them to position themselves for take off. Phasma had Wikk stand back in the corner while she placed herself in front of him like a shield. The pilot announced their departure before taking off out of the hanger and into space towards Kashyyyk.

The doors to the bay could not be closed due to the shipment being large enough to make closing it impossible. Most of the silver solarium bars were stacked out on hover planks in giant squares, but some of it was already strung out in spools of wire that could have wrapped around the shuttle a hundred times. There were 20 tons of pure metal waiting to be used and the gleam of silver was blinding.

“Just look at it,” Pulver beamed, waving his hand towards the exposed metal in the back of the bay. “Almost as gorgeous as another wondrous beauty.” He shot Phasma a wink.

“It appears to be worth a lot of credits,” Phasma replied.

“I’m sure it is,” Pulver agreed as he stared into the light of the silver. “I know nothing about that though. I am merely the savior of this operation. That buffoon Hux has royally screwed up.” He glanced at Phasma with a smirk of a smile. “By the way, if you wish to get away from that incompetent fool, I’m sure I could make a plea to the higher ups to get you a transfer to my ship. I don’t mind doing more favors for you…if you don’t mind doing some favors for me. I have a lot of use for strong, intelligent women.”

Phasma grimaced, biting her tongue hard. She was skilled at avoiding topics verging on unprofessional but Pulver had a way of aggressively bringing them up. At the moment, she didn’t want anything getting in the way of Wikk’s return to his planet.

“Perhaps,” she said with vague promise. “I’d like to know more about this negotiation on Kashyyyk. Will you ensure this Wookiee child is given back to his people?”

“Of course!” Pulver exclaimed with a disregarding wave of his hand. “One way or another, it will not bother you anymore. This, I swear to you.”

“Thank you, General,” Phasma said with little emotion. She certainly didn’t like the way he phrased that and hoped her thanks would cut him off from saying any other off-color things in front of Wikk, who was much more perceptive than humans gave him credit for.

“You have only yourself to thank. If it hadn’t been for your plan to steal the silver solarium shipment from the Wookiees, Hux would have lost control of these oversized bears for sure. Further more, I wouldn’t have had the chance to work beside you again.”

Phasma froze in place, her spine stiffening at his words. “Steal, sir?”

“Perhaps steal is too strong of a word,” Pulver replied. “Seize. Intercept. Blockade. Call it what you want. Regardless, your tactics are impressive, Captain. That idiot Hux doesn’t have enough respect for you.” He gave her a once over with a salacious smile. “He just doesn’t see you the way I do.”

Phasma was too stunned to answer. This had all somehow turned out to be her fault. Wikk might have been home by now if she had not told Hux that the Wookiees were in desperate need of the silver solarium. The Wookiees had probably spent all their credits calling in a shipment of silver solarium so that they could operate the mines and get Wikk back safely. Instead, she had inadvertently suggested to Hux to take the shipment out from under them as a means of tightening the reigns.

From behind her, Wikk mumbled a low trill.

“RNGGRAH?”

She slowly shook her head, not even glancing back at him.

“It’s different, Wikk,” she told him, but she was clearly having her doubts.

What _was_ the difference between the First Order and the Con Star Mining Corporation?

* * *

The shuttle landed down on Kashyyyk right in the middle of the largest village of Mantuuk, which was more like a city in the trees than a village. Thousands of groups of Wookiees were already being herded around by storm troopers with raised blasters. The Wookiees were dirty, like they had been brought directly over from the mines. Stormtroopers had taken all the bow casters they had found and gathered them in caches surrounded by guards, leaving the Wookiees unarmed. What couldn’t be moved, such as the anti-aircraft artillery guns, ion pulse emitters, and the shield generators had been stripped of their silver solarium, rendering them useless.

The platform to the shuttle lowered and General Pulver walked out into the sunshine of what would have been a beautiful day except for the gloom of the spectacle below. Phasma followed with Wikk close behind.

As the sun hit the shipment of metal, it began to heat up, turning the silver solarium into a gold color.

“WAAAR!” Wikk pointed to it and then to her. “HRUNG HUH! HRUNG! HUH!”

“Yes, gold metal,” Phasma agreed, remembering he had a strange fascination with it two nights ago. “I didn’t realize at the time you meant silver solarium, but now’s not the time to discuss t-”

“WAHRUNG HUH!”

She stopped to give him a confused look.

“I’m not gold metal. You know I’m a human and this is my armor. Just, please stay silent and stand close to me.”

Wikk did as he was told, but kept looking back at the parts of the silver solarium shining under the sun and slowly changing into gold.

Pulver was now at the lid of the platform, looking down at the sea of Wookiees standing around at gunpoint by the storm troopers. “Wookiee nation!” Pulver shouted down to them. “The First Order has graciously brought you needed supplies for your drills! It is the will of the First Order that you are gifted this silver solarium and expected that you do not squander it’s use!”

“GRAWWWAAAARGRAWT!” came a shout from the crowd. Six days ago, Phasma would not have known what was said. As it was, Pulver looked to Phasma for translation.

“He says you stole it,” Phasma relayed, choosing not to mention the expletives.

“We simply intercepted it!” Pulver cried out. “And if you see reason to be upset by this gift, perhaps I can find more reason for you to be upset!”

“HERNGRAAAAAWG!” Came more dissenting shouts.

“They want you to release the child,” Phasma translated. What was really said was ‘what kind of people kidnap and imprison children?’ but Phasma doubted Pulver would even consider that as amoral.

“Force, Hux really screwed this all up,” Pulver said, placing blame wherever he could. They were not acquiescing to him like he thought they would once he delivered the silver solarium. “Listen to me, Wookiees! If you do not comply with my commands, my stormtrwoopers will ensure those most contentious will be harshly dealt with!”

The crowd was getting out of hand, but the thought that was at the forefront of Phasma’s mind was her confusion as to how Pulver had such an inability to articulate a simple word as stormtrooper.

“GRAWWWGRAWWHARMPH!!”

“Don’t translate that one,” Pulver told Phasma, which was well since it was especially offensive. He pointed menacingly at the crowd. “If you force me to break you, it will only be your fault! Settle down and the silver solarium will be yours! Work the mines, supply the ore, and your lives will be spared!”

"HAARGRAAAW!" Shouted an angry Wookiee.

"Be quiet, you over-sized hairball!"

“HAARGRAAAW! HAARGRAAW! HAARGRAAW!” What had been one Wookiee yelling slowly built into a chant until most of the Wookiees had joined in. _Fight the First Order._

Pulver stomped his foot like a child and fisted his hands to his side in anger. He turned to Phasma.

“Captain,” Pulver said to her, pointing to Wikk. “Kill it!”

An icy dread flowed through her veins as her brain reprocessed his words over and over again in hopes she might have misheard. Neither child Wookiee nor chrome soldier was quick to move. Pulver did not recognize that beneath the fur or the helmet lay stupefied expressions. When Phasma did not obey, Pulver snapped his fingers at her. “Move it, Phasma! I’m losing my dominance over these creatures!”

Wikk stood stone still, too shocked and confused to move. If he had run she could have pretended to try to shoot and miss him, however he was doing as she told him and staying by her side. Phasma had no choice but to grip her hand on his shoulder and pull him towards her so that his back brushed up against her armor. At the same time she withdrew her pistol from her holster.

Wikk was realizing too late that Pulver’s command was his final fate. He was coming out of his dazed paralysis, struggling when she already had her arm locked around his shoulders and across his neck. He had first been hesitant until he felt himself pinned to her and then survival finally kicked in and he began to wrestle against her, but he was no match for the strong captain.

Pulver turned towards the crowd as Phasma placed the barrel of the gun nearer Wikk’s temple. “You are nothing against the First Order!” he shouted with inappropriate glee. “You shall bow down to our might! For all your trouble, this is what you get! This is what you deserve! Watch as the glorious Captain Phasma takes justice into her own hands!”

Phasma lifted her gauntlet up to Wikk’s face to cover his eyes. He thrashed around and shouted her name with a frantic pleading.

“WAAAR!” His voice was high pitched in panic now that her palm stretched across his eyes. “WAAARGRAAAWNG! GURAWWWHRWAH! WAAAR!”

Phasma made sure he would never see a thing.

Pulver looked back at them, pleased by the fear Phasma had elicited in the doomed Wookiee child. She could see his expression go dumbfounded once he realized where her pistol was pointed.

Pulver’s head exploded in a burst of blood and brains as the plasma bolt sliced through. Immediately, the chanting stopped and trills of shock surged from the crowd even before Pulver’s headless body had slumped entirely to the platform.

Phasma pushed Wikk behind the planks of metal. “Stay low!” she told him as she pointed her gun at the nearest storm trooper. “Make sure to keep out of sight!”

Wikk complied, instantly ducking behind the crates.

The stormtroopers were too stunned to react, however Phasma noticed some of them shaking their heads aggressively like trying to come out of a dream. “GT unit!” Phasma called. “JN unit! Stand down!”

There was silence for a split second before a plasma bolt struck the side of the ship near her.

“Traitor!” She recognized the voice of JN-7707 shout. Strangely enough, she was relieved that he had done so. Phasma located him, raised her pistol and fired. It hit him point blank in his visor, ripping through the thin plastoid and knocking him onto his back upon the ground.

As soon as she had done so, chaos erupted all around. The Wookiees came alive, grabbing onto any stormtrooper and knocking him senseless, however though they had the numbers, they were disarmed and many of the stormtroopers had them surrounded while on higher ground.

Phasma kicked the lever on the giant wire spool and shoved the entire thing down the platform. It rolled off and into the crowd, coming to a stop near the cache of weapons.

“String it into the bow casters!” Phasma ordered the nearest set of Wookiees. Without hesitation, they obeyed her command. She continued to shove the rest of the silver solarium off the shuttle while they slipped down the platform on their hoverplanks and into the mix of Wookiees and stormtroopers.

The entire shipment was unloaded before Phasma remembered Wikk and turned around, stopping cold in her tracks. She had forgotten about the pilot.

“D-drop your w-w-weapons.” The pilot had brandished a pistol of his own and pointed it towards Wikk who stood in fearful indecisiveness.

Phasma could see the pilot’s hand shaking. He was not used to ground combat nor insubordination, which made him more dangerous now that he held the pistol at Wikk. His finger was uncomfortably close to accidentally depressing the trigger. Phasma made a show of dropping her pistol to the floor.

“And your b-blaster, Captain.”

Phasma slowly pulled her blaster from off her belt and placed it on the floor.

“Your knives…”

“I’m taking out my silverstaff first,” Phasma said, emphasizing the noun, pulling it out of the ammo box, and putting it slowly onto the floor. The pilot still had his gun pointed at Wikk but watched Phasma with unwavered anxiousness. He did not see Wikk’s eyes light up at the sight of the silver weapon.

“Your knives, Captain!” the pilot demanded, growing more scared as he looked outside the shuttle and heard the sound of a bow caster clip through the air. The Wookiees were armed now. The pilot never realized so was Wikk.

Wikk pulled his short staff from within his bag, extended it with a quick flick of his arm, and hit the pilot across the gut with it. The pilot doubled over and Phasma ran at him, tackling him just as the shot from his pistol blasted out of the barrel and into the wall of the ship with a deafening racket. The Captain punched her fist across his face, knocking him out cold.

“Well done, Wikk!” Phasma said to him pridefully.

“WAARGRRRAWWWGGGG!” Wikk was exuberant, jumping in happiness, trying to pull her in with a full, furry hug.

Phasma was aware they weren’t out of the fire though. She kept him at arm’s length and pat him on the head. “Of course, I did. I promised I’d never let anything happen to you. Now hurry up and let’s go find-”

The sounds of blaster fire cut her short as plasma bolts pierced into the deck beside them.

“Force!” Phasma cursed as she pushed Wikk behind her and looked out the entrance to see the JN unit encroaching on them. The pilot had given them enough time to group and surround them. With her blaster, pistol and silverstaff on the floor six feet away, she had no time to grab them.

“Knives it is…” she said as she whipped out two blades and threw them into the exposed knees of the first soldiers that appeared at the lower side of the platform. They went down with agonizing cries, which managed to bottle neck the entrance to the shuttle, forcing the rest of the troopers to have to climb over them as they blindly shot into the ship. Phasma ducked the fire then at the first opportunity ran towards one, yanking his blaster out of his hand and fired into his stomach. The rest of the unit came rushing in. Too close to use their weapons, the stormtroopers resorted to relying on their close combat training, somehow forgetting they had never once bested Captain Phasma in their lives.

Still, they fought as one unit as she had trained them to do. But this time it was different as they used their years of animosity against her. It made them wild and unpredictable. Some of their punches actually landed.

“WAAAR!” Wikk looked on with fear. He held his short staff in the air like a bat.

“Stay back, Wikk!” she yelled to him, striking JN-6485 across the helmet, dislodging it so that the visor was not at his eyes. Blood pooled out from underneath where she had most likely broken his nose.

Wikk didn’t do as he was told. Armed with his short staff, Wikk came crashing through the stormtroopers, swinging with all his might and catching the stormtroopers off guard as they had focused all their attention on the Captain. With one giant swing, Phasma just managed to duck the arc as his staff knocked against every white helmet still standing. They all went down and Phasma glanced all around at the heap of soldiers then up at him.

“You’ll be a warrior yet, my boy!” she exclaimed. Wikk beamed with pride.

“GRRAAAAAWNN”

“Well…I had it handled, but I’ll give that one to you.”

“GREEEH”

“I wouldn’t go so far as to say you saved my life. But you were very helpful.”

“RNG? HARUMPHRARARAYAAAA-”

While he was disagreeing, he didn’t notice one of the prone stormtroopers pointing his pistol at him. The plasma bolt fired out and towards Wikk, a second away from killing him until Phasma jumped in front of the bolt as it made a loud ricocheting ‘ping!’ off her armor. Her hand instinctively dipped for her last knife as she pulled it from the scabbard and threw it into his chest, knocking him back like a rag doll.

“Fine. We’ll call it even,” Phasma said to Wikk who flinched into her arms like a scared puppy.

“RAWRAWRAWRAAAW?” he asked, his whole body trembling.

“Yes, they’re all dead,” she answered after looking around at the soldiers on the floor. “I’m beginning to wonder if this might be too much violence for a young child.”

“ _General Pulver! Come in, General_!”

A tinny shout from the headless body still lying on the platform was suddenly heard among the din of the clamor. From outside the shuttle, bow caster shots rang out among blaster fire and the war cries of the Wookiees.

“ _General Pulver_!”

“Force, they know something’s gone wrong,” Phasma complained aloud. She picked up her blaster, went to the edge of the platform, and took out the few remaining storm troopers she could spot. She then pointed to a few Wookiees as they ran past the shuttle.

“You!” she called out. Surprisingly, they stopped to listen. “Start wiring up the ion pulse emitters! Raise the shield generator along this sector! Go now!”

The Wookiees went immediately on her command, pulling the silver solarium wire now shining in gold under the sunlight, and working it through the components of the massive machines surrounding the village.

“The First Order is going to fight back! Be ready!”

“ _Captain Phasma_!” her comm called out. It was General Hux. She ripped off her comm from her wrist plate and threw it to the ground as it continued to call her name. She pointed to another tall Wookiee.

“You! As soon as the pulse emitters are ready, aim and fire at those ships!”

The Wookiee repeated the order and saluted her before running behind the others who rolled the giant spool of wire towards the bank of cannons outside the canopy of trees.

“WAAAR!”

Hearing Wikk, Phasma turned to him, grabbed him by the arm and pulled him down the platform so he was entirely off the ship. “Go find your father, Wikk,” she told him, gripping him by the shoulders and looking eye-to-helmet with him in dire seriousness. “Go home.”

He looked at her in desperation, glancing from her to the shuttle then behind him. Phasma pushed him so that he stumbled further away.

“GRAAHREEEAH!” he called as she fled back up the platform.

“I’ve got to go stop the star destroyers from firing their laser cannons at the planet!” she told him, disappearing into the bay. “They’ll start attacking before your people can ready the emitters. I’ve got to stall them!” She punched the button to the platform and it began to raise while Wikk watched her from the bottom in forlorn distress. Before he had disappeared from view, Phasma was already inside the cockpit switching the engines on. Within a minute, she had the shuttle up in the air and jetting towards the star destroyers just visible outside the atmosphere.

* * *

As she made her approach, she was hailed by one of the communications officers aboard the _Finalizer_. “Identify yourself, First Order shuttle pilot.”

“This is Captain Phasma. Put all available troops onto transports, ready for battle.”

With the troops headed for Kashyyyk, the First Order wouldn’t fire their laser cannons. By the time the transports reached the planet the shield generator would be functioning, causing the First Order to miss their window of opportunity to attack.

There was a scuffling sound on the other side of the comm and then suddenly Hux’s voice could be heard. “Captain Phasma! What happened down there? Where’s General Pulver?”

“The Wookiees managed to overwhelm us. We were outnumbered fifty to one. I’m afraid everyone is dead except for General Pulver who they’ve taken hostage. We must regroup immediately and attack as soon as we can.”

There was a hesitant pause until Hux answered. “Yes. Yes, of course. Come in and we’ll plan a recourse.”

“Negative, sir,” Phasma declared. “We must counter at once. Deploy all units and have them in transports ready to engage in battle. We must go rescue General Pulver while the Wookiees are still regrouping.”

“Stand down, Captain,” Hux replied. “We should strategize this carefully. Land in the hangar immediately and come into the debriefing room.”

“But sir, the General is still down on Kashyyyk as a prisoner. We must act now while-”

“Come back now, Captain!” Hux shouted, briefly clearing his throat before suddenly maintaining a forced politesse. “Please. Your tactical mind is needed here. You know we can’t plan this without you.”

Hux was already suspicious and trying to lure her onto the ship. One of the JN unit troopers must have called in her betrayal before dying by her hand. It would not surprise her if they had every stormtrooper inside the main hangar pointing their blasters at the open bay doors. It was also likely the laser cannons were being prepped and targeting the village.

Take out half the planet and worry about the aftermath later. It was Hux’s usual fallback.

Phasma sighed out in disappointment. She would have to do this the hard way.

“Yes, sir,” she replied, angling the shuttle towards the main hangar. “On my way, sir.”

Luckily, the shuttle was much lighter and more maneuverable without the shipment on board. She steadied her shuttle towards the main hangar until she was just passing by and could see the groups of stormtroopers assembled exactly as she thought they would be. With a quick tap of the control stick, Phasma pitched the shuttle into a roll over the star destroyer and onto the other side. From there she could see the laser cannon already glowing blue with growing power. She had perhaps a minute to take it out before it could be fired.

“Return to the main hangar, Capta-!” Hux seethed over the intercom.

Phasma punched the speaker, breaking it and cutting off the General’s cries. She aimed her guns at the cannons and opened fire. Red sparks of plasma left black scorch marks across the giant cannon until suddenly the blue of the generating power radiated out in a spread of lightning across the side of the hull, fizzling out once the energy had fully drained away.

From the side bay, a squadron of TIE fighters punctured through the shield and came screaming out, headed in her direction. She sped off, keeping close to the side of the star destroyer both in an attempt to steer clear of the ship’s blasters and to prod the TIE’s plasma bolts to go wide and hit into their own star destroyer.

While the TIE’s had tighter maneuverability, the shuttle had more powerful engines and was capable of hyperspace jumps. Phasma’s plan was to take out the cannons from both star destroyers and then jump away. Surviving the tactic was her main goal.

The TIE’s and star destroyers had their own singular goal. _Take down Captain Phasma_.

Phasma had trained them well. They kept on her tail and shot at her, keeping her on the defense as she tried to outmaneuver them. From across space, 20 kilometers away, Phasma noted the blue glow of the _Justifier_ ’s laser cannons begin to surge.

With a forward lurch of her hyperspace propulsion thruster, Phasma jumped the shuttle across the frame of space, reappearing just inside the _Justifier_ ’s gravitational pull. The TIE fighters came screaming towards her in an attempt to intercept her, however it would take them valuable seconds.

The jump had been tumultuous at best, but at least it had worked. The shuttle groaned out with the sudden compression and the heavy turbulence. From behind her a few cooling tubes were shaken loose and went swirling in the air like escaping balloons. A wild shrieking soon followed causing Phasma to jerk around in her seat to look back behind her.

“GAW!” came the angry shout, roughly translated as ‘ow.’

“Wikk!” Phasma yelled back to him, still focused on speeding the shuttle to the cannon while dodging the blasters from the ship. “What the Force are you doing here? I told you to go home!”

“RANG RWER RAWR”

“You would be safer on the planet! I can’t promise nothing will happen to you, _or me_ , up here!”

“GRENNNGR-!”

One of the plasma bolts shot the shuttle, ricocheting off the deflector shield and causing the entire ship to jostle aggressively. Wikk toppled to the floor.

“Just sit in this chair and strap yourself in!” Phasma shouted to him. He came stumbling forward and into the chair just as another plasma bolt hit the shield.

Phasma pitched the shuttle at the cannon and fired just as another squad of TIE’s came careening out of the _Justifier_ ’s side bay. She had managed to shoot enough of the cannon for it to look damaged but the blue glow suggested it was still operational. She had no time to completely destroy it. She pulled away just as the TIE’s began shooting at her.

She dodged and rolled out of their target range, however the other squad had managed to catch up by now. The _Justifier_ ’s squad was clearly not as well trained as the _Finalizer_ ’s but that hardly mattered since shaking two squads regardless of their skill was not an easy feat.

A single TIE came out of formation and then realigned with the group to engage her shuttle.

Phasma suddenly had an idea. “Brace yourself, Wikk!”

She barrel rolled down and underneath the star destroyer, forcing the _Justifier_ ’s squad to follow her down and the _Finalizer_ ’s squad to divert above in an attempt to cut her off on the other side of the ship.

Wikk held on tight to his chair, trying hard not to throw up.

The shuttle had the power to gain some leeway between it and the stalking TIE’s. By the time she had flown out from the underbelly of the star destroyer, she had some distance to suddenly break up and out of sight. The TIE’s blindly followed her, catching a glimpse of her breaking another angle right over the ship.

As soon as Phasma came up over the hull, the other squad was careening towards her, unprepared for her sudden appearance. They all dashed to the side except for the single TIE that was panicked out of formation.

The squad below veered up and directly into the oncoming upper squad. Most managed to dodge but there was too much chaos and five TIE’s crashed headlong into each other, kicking off a flurry of explosions. The debris fell towards the ship, impaling into the hull below.

“HNGAAAAAAH!” Wikk cheered.

“Don’t celebrate yet,” Phasma told him as she veered towards the lone TIE. “We’re not out of danger.” She circled around it just as the other TIE’s regrouped and headed for her with heavy fire.

The shuttle was larger, but the TIE was an adequate shield, taking most of the bolts and exploding out. Phasma stayed hidden behind the cloud of ignited gas, and shot through it towards the TIE’s, hitting the first two and blowing them up. The TIE’s directly behind them found themselves lodged in shrapnel, hindering their maneuverability.

Phasma raced back towards the cannon and fired upon it while the blue of the glow was at it’s peak. She could see the laser powering up for full destruction.

Other shots blasted at her shields indicated the TIE’s had caught up to her. She rolled out and circled the cannon while the TIE’s continued to fire. Two shots hit the cannon, puncturing the main body. Puffs of white vapor spilled out of it. The blue glow wavered for a moment until it glared harshly again.

More TIE’s came zooming out of the bay. She would be overwhelmed soon.

Suddenly a green beam from the planet Kashyyyk emitted out into a radiant arc, hitting the _Finalizer_ hard enough to knock it off it’s trajectory. Electric capillaries extended their tendrils across the ship until the power was leeched out and it was now a sitting duck in space.

“RNG GWAR?” Wikk looked back, trying to pinpoint the source.

“It’s the ion pulse emitters,” Phasma said through grunts as she continued to dodge the constant shots directed at her. “They’re working, but the _Justifier_ still has the capability of destroying the village.”

The TIE’s were advancing. With one last desperate attempt, she led them to the cannon with guns blazing. The shuttle rocked tumultuously with the force of the shots, but still she came at the cannon.

The bright blue glow of the cannon was ready. She could hear the reactor ignite, prompting the laser to fire.

With the combination of her blaster shots as well as the wild ones behind her, the cannon took a huge hit and suddenly exploded along the rim of the star destroyer.

More green lasers pulsed through from the planet below which Phasma narrowly managed to dodge. The last thing she saw before punching the shuttle into hyperspace was the pulse of an emitter hitting the Justifier straight into the bridge, promptly destroying the command center into a sphere of wreckage.

* * *

Now safe in hyperspace, Phasma turned to Wikk with a look of pure fury.

“I told you to look for your father!” she yelled at him. He cowered into his seat, drowning in guilt. “I couldn’t have you go with me! Don’t you see? It was dangerous!”

“rawrg” he muttered. He was wide-eyed in remorse and shame. The look he gave her only caused the her own guilt to intensify.

“You could have died, Wikk!” she continued to yell, not knowing how else to rid herself of this terrible ache in her heart. “I can’t-…!” she choked back, suddenly realizing her feelings were not what she had thought they were. She wasn’t angry with him. She wasn’t angry at all.

Phasma dropped her head onto the navigation board and tried to calm herself. Her pulse was racing a mile a minute and had little to do with the intensity of the battle.

She could feel the weight of Wikk’s stare as he tried to understand what was going on. She felt his little hand reach out and pat her on the shoulder, not knowing what else to do. She grabbed his hand in hers and fought through the choking feeling in her throat.

“Don’t scare me like that again, Wikk,” she told him as composed and serious as she could. “If you were to die, I could never forgive myself. Understand?”

She could tell he had. He nodded, tears forming at the corner of his eyes, but he put on a brave front and hunched into his seat in an attempt not to further agitate her.

“Good.” Phasma sat back in her chair with a full sigh of relief. If he hadn’t hid on the ship, she would have fled, on the run for the rest of her life, but free from the subjugation she hadn’t realized she despised till now. His presence hampered any plans she might have planned, but a large part of her was glad to have him with her.

She couldn’t take him back to Kashyyyk. Not now. As soon as her shuttle pulled out of hyperspace, the TIE’s sitting in space would try to shoot her down again. Not knowing the damage the shuttle had taken, they were most likely lucky to still be alive. No sense in risking a second attempt.

If she managed to repair the ship and take him back later, not only would the star destroyers be functional again, but there would probably be a call out to First Order space to send in reinforcements.

There was no way she would be able to fly to Kashyyyk without a fight.

She couldn’t take him with her anywhere. Everyone would be on the lookout for the treasonous Captain Phasma. First Order officers and greedy bounty hunters would be coming out of the woodworks to capture her. She absolutely did not want Wikk anywhere near the danger she could draw.

She definitely couldn’t leave him. She didn’t trust anyone to treat him right. She didn’t know anyone to pass him onto anyway.

There was only one recourse, and she was loathed to consider it.

Phasma placed a point on the navigational map and directed the shuttle towards it. The map flashed on the words. _Ajan Kloss_

* * *

An hour later, the shuttle entered the space surrounding the planet of Ajan Kloss. Phasma was immediately regretting the fact that she had punched in her comm. She could not make incoming or outgoing transmissions.

“I’m going to land on an enemy base in a First Order shuttle. Let’s hope our outward appearance illustrates we’re not coming to fight,” Phasma explained to Wikk as she pinpointed the coordinates she thought a base might be and was rewarded to look through the canopy of trees to spot crowds of people wearing orange jumpsuits and green coveralls. They were all behaving frantically, but at least they weren’t shooting them down.

Phasma lowered the shuttle onto the ground with terrible slowness, not wanting the Resistance to interpret her actions as a threat, and also trying to draw out her impending doom even longer. Once the shuttle was landed entirely on the ground, she flipped off the engines and looked out the window where they were surrounded by Resistance members ducked behind covers with blasters drawn.

“Listen, Wikk,” she said, taking him by the shoulders. “You and I are going to be separated and I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again.”

“RG?” Wikk looked to her in surprise. “GRRRANGR-”

“No, I don’t want that at all, but it’s possible.”

“RMPHHARRR?”

“Because these people are the only ones that can save your planet right now and bring you back home.”

A booming metal knock at the platform was accompanied by a voice that bellowed out. “Open the door. Lay your weapons on the ground! We’re coming in!”

Phasma flicked a switch and the platform began to lower. Wikk reached over to close it but she took his hand away.

“No, Wikk. They’re not your enemy. They’ll take good care of you until you can go home.”

“RAWWGRAWWG!” He tried to reach over to raise the platform but she kept his hand in hers.

“You can’t stay with me. I’m…I’m a prisoner now.”

The words snapped him into dread. He latched onto her arm and madly reached for the button. She held him down.

“GRAAWWNGREEGRAAAAA!” he cried out, streams of tears slid down his face.

“I have to. This is the only way to keep you safe.” She hugged him into submission, keeping him from raising the platform.

“First Order pilot!” came the call from the bay. “We’re coming in! Put your hands on your head and make no sudden moves!”

“There’s a Wookiee child on board!” Phasma shouted back. “Don’t harm him! He’s innocent!”

“A Wookiee child?” someone muttered down below.

“RGGRAHNG…” Wikk cried into her cape at her shoulder. He might as well have kicked her in the gut as hard as he could, though that probably would have hurt less. She had no time to explain that she was not willingly leaving him.

The first of the Resistance crept into the cockpit.

“Force!” one shouted in shock. “It’s Captain Phasma!”

“Hands on your head!”

Their weapons were pointed directly at her. Wikk seemed not to notice until one of the soldiers reached over and took him by the bicep and attempted to pull him away from her. Wikk cried out in a Wookiee shriek, latching onto her with full grip.

“WAAAR!”

“Get the child!” the sergeant ordered though putting extra emphasis on his blaster towards her face. “Stay still, Captain!”

“WAAAR!”

They managed to pull him off her as she sat as still as possible so as not to prompt a firefight. “You’ll be okay, Wikk! I promise!”

“WAAAR!” he screamed, gripping onto the frame of the door until they could yank him away. “WAAAR!” Her heart twisted into knots as she heard him shriek all the way down the tarmac til his voice was muted inside the base walls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My updates have been infrequent, so once again, Con Star Mining Corporation = Jerks who destroyed Phasma's planet
> 
> I'm in the process of writing the last chapter. This story _will_ have an ending and it _will_ be soon.


	7. Of Gods and Monsters and Generals and, wait... who's that aggressive hot chick?

Captain Phasma was placed in chains and marched into a makeshift cell on the opposite side of the base that they had taken Wikk. She was there for hours, waiting for news, sitting on the cot like a good soldier and trying not to stir up trouble. Her presence had kicked up a rigid tension all throughout the base. She was being guarded by more soldiers than necessary. She could feel all eyes on her, anxious and suspicious.

At long last, a girl barely past twenty came down the hall and peeked into the cell where Phasma patiently sat. Phasma was still in full uniform except for her helmet, which sat on the cot next to her side.

The woman seemed to have come for a stare down. Phasma stared back, willing to give up her freedom for Wikk but not her submission. She would not be subjugated like an animal in a zoo. She stared back in defiance, daring the woman to back down.

With a slight frown, the woman broke first and turned to the guard.

“General Organa would like the prisoner brought to the conference room.”

“Yes, sir,” the guard replied, though he gave off a vibe of dread. He approached Phasma like she was a feral dog about to bite. Nodding to the other guards, they all surrounded her and reached out to clasp the chain that ran from her ankles to her wrists and then up around her neck.

She made no attempt to cause alarm, mostly for Wikk’s sake, but as she stood up she was clearly still at an advantage. She stood much taller than any of the guards and intimidating regardless of whether she wore a helmet or not.

As they walked her towards the conference room, she felt the amount of weight she carried. The chains were thick and for some absurd reason they allowed her to keep the armor and cape on, however it was this moment of interrogation that was heaviest.

She was here for Wikk and nothing more, she told herself. Despite being on the other side of the First Order’s good graces, she had no motive to give the Resistance any information that would not be in direct alignment with Wikk’s fate.

She fought many battles and wars, commanded entire armies through glory and gained the highest honor a stormtrooper could receive, but those would mean nothing if she couldn’t convince the Resistance to defend Kashyyyk based entirely on her word. She had very little hope of accomplishing such a task, but she had her only chance to try and it was right now.

* * *

Phasma was brought to a dimly lit room where the only light came from an open, stone window that shone directly on the chair she was expected to use. She sat down at the head of the table, pleased that her height made it so the light shone only on her chrome plates and not her face.

The table was long with nine people situated on one end and Phasma on the other. Phasma saw her former stormtrooper FN-2187, who scowled at her from his seat, but she rebutted his gaze by not even glancing in his direction. The young woman was also there, still staring at her with hostile intent. Everyone else she recognized only by holovids she had seen from intel or annals about the Empire War.

Major Ematt, Major Brance, Admiral Ackbar, and Rebellion terrorist Chewbacca sat on one side while Admiral Statura, FN-2187, the young woman and Admiral Holdo sat on the other. At the head of the table was General Leia Organa, who had many monikers, all of which Phasma could name. Leader of the Resistance, Rebel hero, Senator, biological daughter of Darth Vader, adopted daughter of Bail Organa, wife to Han Solo, Mother of Kylo Ren.

And formerly, but most notably, Princess of Aldaraan.

At the moment, General Organa watched Phasma with her keen eye as the room waited for her to begin the interrogation.

“Captain Phasma,” the General stated. “You are possibly the most dangerous person in the entire First Order. I hope you’ll understand our suspicions as to why you docked a shuttle within our base unannounced.”

“I’m sure you’ve searched the ship by now and noted the broken comm as well as the dismantled tracer beacon.”

“Most likely staged,” the young woman said. Phasma glanced in her direction and pursed her lips to keep from biting back.

The General paused to assess her before waving a hand at the furthest person down the table at her left. “You probably know of all the people here, but I’ll start the introductions anyway. This is Major Ematt of t-”

“I know who everyone here is by name and rank,” Phasma interrupted. She turned to the young woman. “Except yours.”

With a slight raise of her brow, the young woman answered. “Rey.”

“The Jedi,” Phasma noted.

“How did you know our base is here?” Admiral Holdo questioned suddenly. “What trap are you aiming to draw us into?”

Phasma narrowed her eyes at Holdo. “Currently there are two star destroyers hovering over Kashyyyk, waiting on First Order reinforcements to form an attack on the village of Mantuuk where tens of thousands of Wookiees are holding their own against them. The Wookiees have only a matter of days before the First Order will overwhelm and then enslave them.”

“Why personally bring this news to us?” Major Ematt asked. “What do you expect us to do about that?”

“Did you not hear me?” Phasma replied incredulously. She turned to Chewbacca. “Are you not concerned for your fellow Wookiees? They’re going to be forced back into the mines like they were during the days of the Empire.”

“Again,” Major Ematt said, “what do you expect us to do about it?”

“I expect you to make it not worth the First Order’s while to fight for the ore. That’s what I expect. Block their attempts at encroaching on the planet and they’ll move on somewhere else with little follow up.”

“Just like that?” Rey said in disbelief. “They’d just clear out after all the effort they already put into it?”

“Yes, they would,” Phasma stated.

“Why?” Admiral Akbar asked. He seemed less suspicious and genuinely interested. “What makes you say so?”

Phasma stayed mute and wondered how much she should divulge. She was not here to hand over anything for free to the Resistance. Her only thought was of Wikk and his planet to save.

“Please explain it to us, Captain,” General Organa replied. She spoke softly with a fair amount of respect. “You can understand our hesitancy to send our ships to a planet at the behest of a First Order officer without evidence of it being part of a genuine rescue.”

Phasma sighed out and nodded once. “The ore is needed only for the purposes of exchanging with the Hutt clan for control of the spice trade through Kessel. That ore could easily be found on uninhabited planets in the northwestern sectors of the galaxy, however Kashyyyk is much closer to Hutt space, which cuts back on the cost of fuel. There’s also the availability of free labor, but even free labor can have it’s drawbacks such as becoming too hostile and difficult to manage. Combine that with an enemy presence circling Kashyyyk space and the First Order would be forced to find other solutions on other planets.”

“We’re already spread thin through the sector,” Major Brance said. “We might not have the means to engage the First Order in a battle over a single planet when there are no obvious gains for us.”

“You have your Mon Cala warships sitting idly by above Tatooine,” Phasma replied. “Send them to Kashyyyk. They could easily take care of the two star destroyers out there and thwart any other attempts the First Order makes to regain the planet.”

“How do you know about our warships?” Admiral Statura asked. “They were only commissioned three months ago.”

“Well, aside from giving away plausible deniability of our newest fleet,” General Organa said, glancing to Statura in irritation, “we would need to make certain that what you say is true. It would be a great victory for the First Order to take out our war fleet on it’s first voyage into battle.”

Phasma sighed out in frustration and eyed the General with a frown. It wasn’t that General Organa was being obtuse about the situation, but that this level of distrust would never resolve the time-sensitive nature of Kashyyyk’s fate.

“I assure you that I would not risk my life or freedom simply for a few ships that could be easily ambushed without the need to infiltrate your base.”

“Why _are_ you risking your life and freedom?” Rey questioned. “You say you’re not here as a defector, yet you’re not here on a mission for the First Order? What exactly _is_ your gambit?”

Phasma swallowed hard and pushed down her frustration. Showing her anger would amount to her being locked up and her word cast aside as trash spouted by a spy. However, trying to reason with them might take too long and Kashyyyk could be destroyed. She was losing hope.

“There is no gambit.”

“Then give us more to work with,” Admiral Holdo said. “Tell us where Kylo Ren is.”

“This is not relevant. Kashyyyk is all that matters right now. That is all I will discuss.”

“Finn,” General Organa said, “tell us more about Captain Phasma.”

Phasma had no idea who the General was talking to until FN-2187 began to speak. “She’s the most highly decorated military officer in the First Order. Supreme Leader Kylo Ren heavily depends on her and often brings her on his own missions. She is a combative force in her own right and does not have a loyal bone in her body. She thinks only of herself and does not care about anyone or anything.”

Phasma would have liked nothing more than to remind FN-2187 that he was not even good enough to sweep the floors of Starkiller base.

“Is this standard?” General Organa questioned. “Does the Captain often go on espionage missions of this sort?”

FN-2187 bit his lip and narrowed his eyes at Phasma. “The Captain is a tactical mastermind and capable of planning out something of this caliber, however, she isn’t likely to go to lengths this great simply to down a few warships. She’s also more keen on rushing headlong into battle than entrapping an enemy.”

“Just fly out a few recon ships to Kashyyyk and see for yourself,” Phasma said, not liking that a slight pleading slipped into her tone. “The Wookiees have set up the shields and are pulsing their emitters into their exosphere, but that will only hold off the First Order for so long.”

“I don’t like this,” Holdo complained. “Our recon teams will fly out there and see only what the First Order wants us to see. The Captain is trying to trick us into sending in our flagships.”

“It’s a trap,” Admiral Akbar stated.

“It is not a trap,” Phasma seethed through her teeth. “We already know your ships are circling Tatooine. We could easily engage them in a battle out there. There would be no reason to trick you into sending them to Kashyyyk.”

“If you know where they are, why haven’t you shot them down?”

“At the moment our ships are on active missions. That is all I will say about that.”

“Perhaps you’re trying to get us to move the war ships away from Tatooine for some reason,” Admiral Stratura said.

“There’s nothing on Tatooine,” Phasma replied. “What would the First Order want out there? Sand?”

“This can all be resolved right now,” Admiral Akbar explained. “Give us any confidential information about the First Order that can be verified, then we will believe your story about Kashyyyk.”

“I’m not giving you anything you don’t deserve. I am here for one thing and that is to find reinforcements for Kashyyyk.”

“What do you care about Kashyyyk?” Rey replied haughtily.

“That holds no relevance. It’s not about how much I care. It’s about how much you - the Resistance who claims to be concerned about every planet and species in the galaxy - it’s about how much _you_ care.”

“GRNWAAAARG”

“Exactly! Finally someone said something worthwhile,” Phasma exclaimed, holding her hand towards Chewy.

“We can hold a general meeting with some of the other bases,” Ematt said.

“That will take too long,” Phasma disagreed.

“I find your insistence highly suspicious,” Holdo said.

“I have no choice but to urge you to act now while you still have a window of opportunity.”

“We have no proof that what you say is true.”

“Then go gather proof! You have pilots and B-wings available! Go look for Forcing sake!”

“She’s lying to us,” Rey replied. “Look at how desperate she is.”

“Go Force yourself!”

“I think there’s merit,” General Organa declared. “But we need to regroup with the others and make a plan. If we get Crait base on the line we c-”

“By then it will be too late!” Phasma exclaimed, her chains jangling with the tensile strength of her bound arms. “The First Order is planning an attack _right now_!”

“We can’t go bounding into a battle at your say so,” Ematt contested.

“But you don’t have the luxury of taking your time!”

“Kashyyyk has plenty of defense.”

“The First Order is equipped to handle outdated shield generators and pulse emitters. The Wookiees have a day at best before they are overwhelmed!”

“How can we know you’re telling the truth?”

“If you do nothing and Kashyyyk is decimated, then you will know I was telling the truth. Will you be satisfied with that?”

“We simply don’t have the manpower to engage the First Order over Kashyyyk,” Statura replied. “Our efforts would be better placed somewhere else.”

Phasma slammed her hand on the table and stared daggers at the admiral.

“Then you’re committing the Wookiees to death! Don’t you see that? The First Order _will_ attack. They will enslave every adult and child on the planet. They will rip the ore from the ground, abuse every aspect of the land, and leave the planet a husk of what it once was. Kashyyyk will be a wasteland of sick and hungry inhabitants. Anyone who survives the onslaught and slavery will be broken twigs from a once thriving tree. It’s going to happen and you’re not doing anything about it! How can you sit back and allow Con Star to do this all over again?”

The room fell into a thick silence. Phasma glared at them with fury until General Organa spoke with a calming softness.

“Con Star, Captain?”

It was then Phasma realized what she had actually said. Confused by her own words, she slowly sank back in her chair, brows furrowed in perplexity.

“What is Con Star?” Rey asked anyone.

“It’s a mining corporation,” General Organa replied. “They’ve been around since before the Empire, sapping resources and laying waste in their paths. Apparently Captain Phasma knows a thing or two about it.”

Phasma stayed silent. She had said enough.

General Organa continued. “I’m vested in saving Kashyyyk too, Captain. But I must confess, I need to ensure you’re not setting us up. I need more confidential information.”

Phasma sighed out heavily.”If you defend Kashyyyk, I will tell you everything.”

“No, Captain, that’s not how this works.”

Phasma thought hard about it. She had no loyalty to the First Order, but she definitely didn’t trust the Resistance. They were a rag tag team of opportunists. They would squeeze out all her secrets, kill her once they were done with her, then let Kashyyyk fall anyway. After all, she was literally talking to the woman who allowed Tarkin to blow up her home-world of Alderaan rather than give up the stolen plans to the Death Star.

“Defend Kashyyyk. Until then, I don’t trust you,” Phasma muttered as she stared out the window. It had been a mistake to come here. The Resistance was ineffective and useless. She had given herself up for nothing.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Captain,” General Organa replied. “Maybe you could answer one simple question?”

Phasma was too forlorn to answer and would not look anyone in the eye.

General Organa leaned closer and narrowed her eyes at Phasma in interest. “Tell me, Captain, what is the young Wookiee’s name?”

Phasma glanced over at General Organa in surprise. “He didn’t tell you?”

“He did,” she nodded. “Though it took some time to calm him down before he would speak to us.”

This was an obvious tactic by the General, but one Phasma didn’t mind indulging. “His name is Paalitoggoyhalrick, however he’ll also answer to Wikk.”

“Yes, so he said. He likes the nickname and has insisted we all call him Wikk. How old is he?”

“He’s twenty four years old,” she stated firmly.

“How old is that for a Wookiee in comparison to a human?” FN-2187 asked.

“HRRRGREE”

“Six? Dang, that’s young…”

“Why was he taken from Kashyyyk?”

“His father is Kalathyya, head of the Wookiee council. Wikk was being used by General Hux as a bargaining tool to prompt the Wookiees into manually mining the ore until the drills were operational.”

“He came to us with only a bag. What’s in the bag?”

Phasma rolled her eyes to the ceiling and replied with slight embarrassment. “A blanket, a mini-droid, a shortstaff, and tubes of bean butter paste.”

“Empty tubes anyway.”

She had no idea when Wikk had time to eat them, but it didn’t surprise her. “Of course,” she whispered more to herself, accompanied by a silent huff of a laugh.

“You have to know that we asked him about you.”

“I’m sure you did.”

“Care to know what he said?”

“He probably said I was mean and strict and that I yelled at him a lot.”

“Yes. And that you curse too much.”

“Well, there’s that too.”

“He also said you were the nicest person in space.”

“That’s not saying much, is it?”

“What I don’t understand is why does he call you Falkryth?”

“He just always has,” Phasma shrugged. “I was not well versed with the Wookiee language when he came aboard so it took a few days to realize he was not calling me by my given name. By the time I figured it out, it seemed needless to correct him on it, so I simply allowed him to continue using the moniker. I don’t think he knows my real name.”

“Oh, he knows. We asked him and he stated that you’re known as Captain Phasma of the First Order, however he insists he’s the only one that knows you’re actually Falkryth in human form.”

Phasma furrowed her brows in confusion. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“WAAAR” Chewbacca said. “WAHRUNG GHUH.”

Phasma sat stunned for a moment. “God of metal? I don’t know anything about Falkryth or any Wookiee god of metal.”

“Falkryth is the most popular god in the Wookiee culture,” General Organa explained. “It’s said that he was born from within the black mountains of Kashyyyk before the planet had been dyed with color. He was made from the rock, which was at the time entirely obsidian.”

“I’m afraid my knowledge of Wookiee mythology is sorely lacking.”

“Then let me educate you," the General replied. "Of the Wookiee gods, Falkryth was the most beloved by nature. He had once been as black as the mountains where he came from, but one night the moon turned him into silver so that it could find and talk with him, and from then on silver was the main color Falkryth became. During the day the Wookiee god reflected the color of the sun, and turned a gold so bright that over time it ultimately gave him immense powers.

“Falkryth soon discovered he could reflect new colors and then wash the earth with them. He first took a stone and turned it blue, which today is known as the Zuuli gem. He sculpted Zuuli stones into brushes and painted the seas of Kashyyyk with them. Falkryth made it his mission to invent new colors and paint every inch of the world, including brown for the trees, green for the leaves and orange for the sunsets.

“Aside from painting Kashyyyk, Falkryth was also a great protector, and was never seen without his great staff in hand. Being made of metal, naturally he was a great warrior and strong in every sense. Falkryth fought and defeated the four dragon gods, encapsulating them in the four moons and throwing them into the night to forever circle the planet. When the roots misbehaved, he pulled them from the earth and stretched them into tall trees, so that they could learn to be useful. For every event that threatened Kashyyyk, Falkryth was there to defend it. Every Wookiee on Kashyyyk knows of Falkryth. Perhaps you can see where you might share some similarities.”

“It is only natural for developed species to look for supposed patterns that are overall meaningless.”

“Well, It took some coaxing but we finally got Wikk to tell us your secret. That _you_ are Falkryth in disguise.”

“You can’t be serious,” Phasma said, side-eyeing the General in disbelief. “I’m not Falkryth, or a god, or anything like that.”

“He says he has proof that you are.”

“What’s going on here? I’m not a god.”

“We know, but you’ve convinced Wikk of it.”

“I look back and see now that he has tried more than once to get me to understand,” Phasma admitted. “You should have seen his reaction to the color of my hair. But other than carrying a staff and my armor made of chrome, there are no other reasons he should believe that. I swear I had no plan to convince him I was.”

“Don’t forget that Falkryth is a guardian. Wikk says you’ve protected him many times and that you even once flew through the air to save his life.”

“I can’t fly. I…jumped through a window. Are we really entertaining this? There’s a planet that needs reinforcements. There are parents without their little boy.”

“HURAWWWGUR?”

Phasma flinched back. “What does that matter? I thought you all fancied yourselves as protectors from the oppressors. Kashyyyk is being oppressed. Go protect them!”

“Just answer Chewy's question,” General Organa said. “Do you like Wikk?”

“This is ridiculous,” Phasma replied. “What kind of question is that?”

“Well, do you?” Rey asked.

“Listen here, _Rey_ ,” Phasma leaned in, giving the Jedi another stare down, “for the past week I’ve been on constant watch over a child who can’t help but engage in self-destructive behavior. I’ve been monitoring his nutrition so that he doesn’t get a stomach ache, chasing after him all over the star destroyer so he doesn’t get shot, incessantly nagging him to brush his teeth, teaching him basic tasks like how to use a fork, reminding him every time he comes out of the bathroom to pick up after his fur, making up bedtime stories just so that he’ll go to sleep, and telling him over and over again not to quick jab his shortstaff after a parry from the left. He only listens when you don’t want him to, constantly invades my personal space, never wakes up by himself in the morning, can’t take a barrel roll without vomiting, laughs without abandon like a Hosnian hyena, thinks he can beat me at arm wrestling, and can’t pass by a button without pushing it. The child is unfocused, overly dramatic, maintains an unhealthy diet, disregards social etiquette, and snores like a Rancor trapped in a Sarlacc pit. He is ridiculous, childish, resourceful, clever, funny, inquisitive, always makes the best of things, fares well under pressure, utilizes a solid reverse strike with his shortstaff, and has never ever deserved one Forcing second of all this Forcing political galactic Wampa shit! _Do I like him_? What do _you_ think?”

The members sitting around the conference table sat in dumbfounded silence.

“I’m convinced,” General Organa finally replied. She tapped a button on a comm system in front of her. “Move in now, Major.”

“ _Yes, General_ ,” came the answer from the comm. “ _Jumping into Kashyyyk space….now_.”

Phasma could hear the boom of the sonic jump as the ship pulled out of hyperspace. Three more booms followed as the rest of the fleet followed. It took her a brief moment to realize it was happening at that very moment. General Organa had already directed the war ships out of Tatooine space and towards Kashyyyk even before the interrogation had begun. She wasn’t sure how she had persuaded the Resistance to intervene the attack on Kashyyyk but her stomach rolled in great heaps of excitement.

“ _Two star destroyers ahead_ ,” the Major reported. “ _They’re opening fire._ ”

“Return fire!”

“ _Yes, General_!” Blaster noise cut through the speaker. “ _Approaching to the starboard. We’ll take measures to avoid the cannons_.”

“Their cannons should still be nonfunctional,” Phasma declared. “Target the array above the cannon blast boards. The exposed sections should be weak enough to collapse the frame. They would be dead in the water without structural integrity to the section closest to the reactor core.”

“ _Uh, General? Who was that_?”

“Heed that advice, Major. Target the arrays.”

“ _Yes, General._ ” The amount of fire power the war ship gave off sounded immense from the speakers. Phasma could pinpoint the exact second she heard the ignition on the laser emitters. She could hear it from the surrounding ships as well.

A deafening explosion was heard and the Major, though professional, was obviously pleased by the results. “ _One star destroyer down. The other has jumped into hyperspace and escaped, though it’s heavily damaged_.”

“Circle the sector!” Phasma demanded. “Shoot down any remaining TIE’s and reinforce the shield generators on Kashyyyk with electromagnetic pulsors!”

“That’s quite enough, Captain,” General Organa said as she disconnected the transmission. “I’m the commanding officer here and I will ensure the sector is safe. Now then, we have trusted you and sent reinforcements to Kashyyyk. Let’s start with your information about Kylo Ren. Where is he?”

Phasma swallowed hard and jutted her chin in the air in defiance. “Not until I see Wikk on his way home.”

The entire command tensed with her reply.

“Fine,” General Organa agreed.

* * *

Phasma made only one other request. She did not want Wikk to see her in chains. General Organa nodded her head in compliance despite the hesitant gaping from the others.

Two hours later, the entire base was lined up in a welcoming formation while the Resistance shuttle landed on the tarmac. It was nearly dusk when the platform lowered and two tall Wookiees came rushing out, looking frantically around for their son.

A shrill cry came from within the base and Phasma saw Wikk scamper out and run full speed towards his parents in all out joy. Kalathyya picked him up and swung him around with pure, unadulterated happiness. The family came together in a crushing hug, tears of relief and elation trailed from their eyes.

Phasma stood tall with General Organa flanking her right and Rey on her left. Considering she was not shackled, she suspected the Jedi was the only person skilled enough to put up a fight should the Captain suddenly try to make an escape.

The Captain tried to focus on the hardened fact that she was a prisoner, and not on the emotional display before her that kept trying to hammer open some region of her heart. She was a warrior, not a weakling, she reminded herself. Regardless, she was worried that once Wikk was gone, she would be filled with regret for having done the only selfless thing in her entire life. Prison, or death, was a heavy price to pay for a boy she’d known for less than a week.

At that moment, Wikk glanced up from his father’s shoulder and spotted her lined up with the others.

“WAAAR!”

Right then she knew she could never regret getting him home.

Wikk shrugged out of his father’s embrace and ran to her, stopping short just in front of her. He was awkward now, like seeing her in a different light. Undoubtedly they had told him the history of her crimes. They had most likely explained that she was a cold-hearted killer, unfeeling and uncaring, and completely unnatural in behavior. They probably told him how ungodlike she really was, neither merciful nor benevolent, more destroyer than protector, and that she was a mere human of no special distinction who didn’t like anybody and especially didn’t care for children.

A week ago they would have been right.

“Wikk…” she began, but her voice caught in her throat. It had only been hours but already he was looking older, like his innocence was leeching away and so were the bonds they’d built. The thought that he’d grow up and forget her finally ripped apart the heart she’d worked so hard to harden.

Phasma took him by the shoulders and pulled him in. He wrapped his long hairy arms around her waist so tight. He immediately cried into her cape, aware enough to know she’d made a sacrifice just for him.

“GREEHAAAARW” he snuffled against her shoulder.

“I did,” she replied, hugging him hard enough to feel the tremors from his sobs. “I kept my promise. Today, you go home.”

The sunset was at it’s strongest, so orange near the horizon, casting the light onto Captain Phasma and reflecting her into a bright gold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Making shit up is what I do. That whole Wookiee god thing is not canon.  
> Also, yes, I'll admit to bringing back dead characters and that the Resistance never had warships hiding out near Tatooine. And if I'm going that far, I'm just going to further add that Luke is still alive somewhere, kicking ass and occasionally showing up on the Resistance base to hang out with his twin for the day. 
> 
> I'm writing the epilogue soon and then after that we can put a fork in this story.


	8. Epilogue. Or rather, another story within a story that's barely a story and more like romance filler.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is going to be a stark contrast to the previous ones because I am shoehorning an unnecessary ship into this fic. I couldn't help it. I just couldn't.
> 
> Anyway, EVERYONE LOOK AT THIS! 
> 
> Thank you to [SinisterScribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinisterScribe/pseuds/SinisterScribe) for this awesome fanart! This the moment that Wikk finds out Phasma is a blonde, which in his mind somehow means she's most definitely a Wookiee god.  
> I've already gushed on and on to SinisterScribe about this fantastic drawing but I'm going to highlight my favorite parts yet again. Look at that cape! Omg, her hair is awesome! Wikk is so cute! Force, I love that armor!  
> It blows my mind that someone can just whip this up. Amazing! Go checkout SinisterScribe's work, especially if you fancy some Once Upon a Time fic.

Captain Phasma of the First Order was not an especially loquacious person, but the very next day she talked and talked and talked until she had divulged every single thing she knew. The more she spoke, the more she realized how oblivious she had been regarding the glaring flaws of the First Order. It’s not that she wasn’t aware of the abysmally poor leadership, or the system wide genocide, or the illegal annexation of planets. Phasma just always thought she was on the side of lesser evil. She wasn’t part of Con Star, she wasn’t a terrorist planting bombs on Death Stars or taking out military posts, and she wasn’t part of the spice deals between Kessel and the Hutts, so in her mind she was absolved of any morally questioning event regardless of who was carrying it out. It turned out, the galaxy was so much more complicated than that.

General Organa and her crew wanted to know everything. No question was left unanswered.

“How did you know of our base?” Admiral Holdo asked.

“We’ve known you’ve been hiding here for months and have been tracking your movements,” Phasma answered.

“How?”

“Instead of having deliveries sent to you, you should really pick up shipments from your weapons dealer on a remote planet.”

“If you’ve known all this time, why haven’t you attacked?”

“The Supreme Leader will not allow it.”

Everyone looked to General Organa.

“I’ve theorized he simply cannot stand the thought of directly causing his mother’s death,” Phasma added.

“You know of General Organa and Kylo Ren’s connection?” Admiral Akbar questioned.

“I don’t believe I’m supposed to know, however neither Kylo Ren nor General Hux are professional about confidential information. They bicker often, and in those moments they seem to forget I’m standing six feet away.”

“Speaking of which,” Admiral Ematt asked, “where is Kylo Ren?”

“Exegol. After the success of his mission on Mustafar, Kylo Ren found an artifact owned by Darth Vader that led him to the hidden planet.”

“Why is he there?”

“He is seeking out former Emperor Palpatine….”

* * *

Even before the interrogation was over, General Organa was already dispatching recon ships and mapping out tactical strategies. By the time Phasma had told all she could about the First Order, conversation turned to her personal history.

“What was your operating number before you became Captain?”

“I never had one. I was not taken from my home-world as a child. Brendol Hux allowed me to keep my given name.”

“GRWRUMPH?”

“I have served the First Order a little over ten years.”

“Why betray them now?” Holdo asked.

“I’ve been told I don’t have a loyal bone in my body.” Phasma glared at Finn before turning back to Admiral Holdo. “As for the timing, empathy comes a little later in life for some.”

“Did you like the First Order?”

“Of course not.”

“Why did you stay for so long?” Admiral Akbar asked.

“They made me Captain. I was at the top.”

“You just said you didn’t like it.”

“No, I said I didn’t like the First Order. I certainly enjoyed being the head of an entire fleet of soldiers. Why would I leave that? Where would I even go if I had wanted to leave?”

“But you did leave…” Rey said in confusion.

Phasma sighed. “Except for interrogators, children are the only ones to ask an alarming number of questions. Most are answered by common sense, but a few are destined to be profound enough to change the course of thinking.”

* * *

After her interrogation, Phasma was confined to her makeshift cell while the Resistance developed their plans. In the meantime she was given food, books and other small comforts as well as several oversized green jumpsuits because they were the only things that would fit someone of her height. She exercised in her cell while the guards watched her every move. Three days into her imprisonment, Rey appeared.

“Leave us, please,” Rey told the guards. They all shrugged and shuffled out without a word.

The Captain was on the floor doing push-ups. “What…do you…want?” she asked through repetitions.

“The General asked me to get a rise out of you.”

Phasma glanced up at her in confusion, not even bothering to stop her exercises.

“I mean, the day you came to the base,” Rey amended. “Before you were interrogated. The General asked me to test your patience. That’s why I was hostile with you.”

“Are you…apologizing?”

“I’m just trying to explain why I was so aggressive at the time. I’m not normally that aggressive.”

“So…not…apologizing?”

Rey sighed out and stared at Phasma with a fixed gaze of exasperation. She then extended her arm and revealed a holo-note on the palm of her hand. “This came for you.”

The Captain stood up, clapped the dust off her hands and took it from Rey with a suspicious glare. She flipped it over in her hand, looking for anything that might give away who the sender might be.

The Jedi seemed interested in the holo-note and made no move to leave. Phasma turned it on and a drawing clearly made by a child hovered in light above the emitter. It was a picture of a short brown Wookiee standing next to a tall silver Wookiee with longstaffs in their hands.

Phasma felt a warmth in her chest stimulated by both happiness and embarrassment. She glanced over to see the Jedi giving Phasma a smirk.

“This is shoddy work,” Phasma said, turning off the holo-note and sticking it in her pocket. “He needs more practice.”

“Right,” Rey stated with a bit of an amused huff. “I’m sure you could do better.”

Phasma turned to her with eyes narrowed and relied on her usual intimidation tactic of taking a step closer so that the difference in their height was more pronounced. “I thought you said you were not normally aggressive.”

Rey breathed in and tipped her chin higher in an effort to seem bigger than she was. Although she was still a head shorter, her brazen demeanor made up for it.

“It turns out I enjoy getting a rise out of you.”

With her eyes lingering a little longer on Phasma, Rey turned and left, leaving the Captain wondering why the air suddenly felt electric.

* * *

Perhaps it was because General Organa was a benevolent warden, but Phasma was allowed to walk around the base with her guards in tow. Most of the base was made up of tall shuttle hangars where the soldiers had set up makeshift common areas and training floors. As soon as Phasma and her guards passed by a brawl exercise, the Captain fell immediately into instructor mode.

“Next time don’t lunge with your left foot,” she reprimanded one of the soldiers.

“What would you Forcing know, Craptain?” he sassed. The area was filled with other Resistance soldiers that all stepped back in alarm. They glanced at Phasma and then at the soldier like giddy school children about to witness a schoolyard fight.

“Baton,” Phasma said with her hand held out expectantly. Inexplicably, someone placed it in her palm and suddenly she and the soldier where circling each other with weapons raised. He was visibly shaking.

She didn’t even need her weapon. One sweep of the leg was all it took to bring him down to the mat.

“I could fight three of you and come out victorious,” Phasma said.

“We’ll take those odds!” shouted three brothers watching from within the crowd. They were strapping young men who took off their jackets to reveal thick muscle sculpted on their arms. Phasma dropped her baton and waved them forward.

“You boys are what the First Order refers to as ‘ornamental’.”

“What the Force does that mean?”

“Your muscle is all show, no worth.” Less than a minute later, after the brothers charged her at once, Phasma proved her point.

“I’m next!” A giant of a man called out with raised hand. “I’ll beat her into submission.”

“This is getting out of hand,” one of Phasma’s guards said, holding his blaster at her and indicating she move away from the training circle. “I’m taking her back to the cell.”

The giant pointed at Phasma and shot her a glare. “Next time, Blondie.”

Phasma smirked and pointed back at him with steel blue eyes. “You’re on, Ugly.”

The guards had to escort her out quickly before the situation escalated too far.

* * *

Phasma requested a holo-emitter and as soon as she was granted one she sent a message to Wikk and his parents. For the first time in her life she spoke with genuine empathy. She gave her formal apology and communicated sincere well wishes. She ended the transmission reminding Wikk that he was a smart boy and to practice his shortstaff strikes often.

* * *

The view from her cell window was limited but she overlooked the dense forest where a path entered and disappeared through the trees. There were many days or nights when Phasma would note a blue rod of light bounce between the trees among the brush. She knew it was the Jedi because there was nothing else it could be.

The hours of which the beam of light could be seen had no pattern. Rey was practicing as often as she could regardless of the time. One night, Phasma stared out at the blue beam, swaying back and forth, usually down in the foliage but sometimes up in the trees where a reasonable human had no way of reaching.

Being a warrior, Phasma’s thoughts turned to the inevitable. Could she win a battle with the Jedi? Her tactical mind went to all manner of ideas of how to defeat Rey, not out of malice but simple competition.

* * *

After the brawl the other day with the soldiers, there should have been no reason to allow Phasma to appear out of her cell again. She was convinced she was being tested when her guards told her they were taking her for a walk. It came as no surprise when they took her directly to the shuttle hangars. Platoons of soldiers were already grouped around the brawl ring where the brute from the other day stood in the middle of the chalk circle waiting for her.

“Your day to die, Blondie,” the brute said through a threatening grit of his teeth. He cracked his thick knuckles one-by-one.

“Your day to live,” she replied, standing at attention so that all would see how she wasn’t even remotely intimidated.

The brute flinched in confusion. “That all you gotta say? Not even gonna pretend you can kill me?”

“I wouldn’t dream of killing one so undeserving of a noble death.” Phasma took two paces until she was inside the circle. “However, it is my duty to ensure stupidity does not follow down your lineage.”

“Your fancy talk is nonsense!” He squared his shoulders and put up his fists. “I’m gonna straight up kill you! You’re not gonna like what I do with your corpse. How you like that fancy talk?”

The crowd was already raucous to the point where Phasma and her opponent were hard to hear, but once the brute was in position the cheers and boos were deafening.

Phasma didn’t even bother getting into a defensive stance. The brute approached her swinging. Phasma dodged every strike with effortless ease. More booing from the crowd commenced.

With every missed punch, the brute grew more agitated. “First Order scum!” he yelled at her. “You ain’t no warrior. Just a Forcing coward.”

“I will strike you only once,” Phasma assured. “But you will feel the pain for the rest of your life.”

The brute roared out at her and she didn’t react. He took the biggest swing of all. His fist headed straight for her left temple.

Phasma ducked and he lost control of his balance with the momentum of his unbroken swing. As he reeled forward, Phasma was crouched low enough to uppercut her fist solidly into his jewels. The strength of her punch and the accuracy of such a strike caused the impact to radiate out like a mini-sonic explosion located entirely in his groin.

The brute felt the panic of regret before he had even hit the concrete. As if the physical and emotional pain wasn’t enough, he clasped his hands to his damaged balls, and the only thing to cushion his fall was his nose.

The crowd gasped in horror and went silent as the giant was knocked out cold on the floor.

Phasma was the only one not in shock. She clapped her hands clean of dirt while everyone else was frozen in disbelief. Only one other moved during that brief snapshot in time who Phasma had not noticed standing in the back of the hangar until that very moment.

Rey stood with her back against the wall, arms folded across her chest. A smirk of approval gave Phasma a strike in her gut greater than if the brute had managed to land a punch.

The guards snapped out before everyone else. They raised blasters to Phasma’s face and scurried her back to her cell.

* * *

The Jedi came to Phasma’s cell the next day. She immediately told the guards to leave, lowered the shield to the room, and stepped inside.

“That was quite a feat you pulled off yesterday,” Rey stated.

“He had it coming. No child deserves a fate worse than to be fathered by such a dishonorable specimen.”

“And you think you’re the one to decide that?”

Phasma turned to Rey, stepping closer so that the Jedi was darkened by her shadow. “I made my intentions clear. You could have tried to stop me.”

To the delight of Phasma’s humming heart, Rey stepped closer and looked up at her in defiance. “There is no try. I _could_ have stopped you.”

Phasma huffed in disbelief and spoke low. “Then why didn’t you?”

“Because no child deserves to be fathered by such a dishonorable specimen.”

Phasma narrowed her eyes down at Rey. “I’m morally impaired. Or so they tell me. I’m finding it difficult to believe a self-professed, non-aggressor would condone my actions.”

“I can’t say I would be willing to handle the situation exactly the way you did,” Rey said, “however, let’s not forget that I am a Jedi and that conflict comes with the title.”

“I thought you said you were not an aggressive person.”

“I’m not. I am confrontational, however.”

“Are those not the same thing? Regardless, did you really come here to be confrontational over something we agree on?”

“I’m here to give you this.” Rey held out her hand to show the Captain a holo-emitter on her palm. Phasma paused a moment before taking it from her hand and pocketing it.

“Is that all, Jedi?” Phasma didn’t want Rey to leave but it was uncomfortably warm beside her.

Rey hesitated before speaking. “You’re not nearly as aggressive as you think.”

Phasma stared hard at her, trying to understand her angle.

“Perhaps we don’t apply the same definition to the word,” Phasma finally said. It wasn’t nearly as contentious an answer she wanted to give, but she was confused enough to deflate the energy building between them.

“I’ve always known it to mean hostile. Mean. Rude.” Rey looked to the ceiling for another synonym before settling her eyes back on Phasma. “Disgraceful.”

Phasma understood that Rey didn’t think these things of her, which was meant to be some kind of compliment. Still, the fact Rey referred to her as ‘unaggressive’ needed to be rectified because Phasma prided herself on her aggression.

“I think aggressive is better summed up as tough. Brazen. Bold.” Phasma quirked her eyebrow at her. “Assertive.”

Rey nodded her head. “You’re right. We do have differing ideas on what it means.” She gave her a once over before turning to leave. “Perhaps I am aggressive after all.”

“Prove it,” Phasma said in a last ditch effort to retain Rey’s attention while the Jedi made her exit out of the cell. “Next time it had better be you in the brawl ring.”

“I promise you there will definitely be something between us in the future,” Rey replied with a teasing tone as she disappeared out the door.

“What does that mean?” Phasma shouted after her. “Is that a yes?”

She was annoyed when there was no reply. The guards came back in and took up their posts, eyeing her gravely even after raising the shield between her and them.

Phasma fished out the holo-emitter and flicked it on. A thirty second vid showed Wikk in his room pointing out the various changes he made after coming back home. There were books and pictures of Falkryth strewn about while Wikk indicated his favorite adornment, which was the shortstaff hung up on the wall.

“WAAAR”

Phasma paid attention. Hearing him still call her Falkryth was comforting.

“HURAAANG RAAANG”

A couple of weeks ago, Phasma would have blanched at his admission. At the moment, her whole self was overjoyed. Someone must have told him what she said.

_I like you, too_

* * *

The next morning, Phasma could see the Jedi in the forest again. After an hour the blue beam flicked off and then suddenly, thirty yards down the path, the young woman came out of the clearing, dripping sweat and looking out of breath.

Phasma watched, feeling the thumping in her chest beat harder.

As if hearing it, Rey suddenly whipped her head in Phasma’s direction and spotted her staring from her window. She stopped to gaze back in a manner that seemed provoking and Phasma knew right away it was Rey trying to be aggressive.

Phasma didn’t look away, instead daring her to try harder. This was not unlike their first encounter when the Captain refused to be submissive despite being a prisoner.

Sensing she would not win without taking other measures, Rey held up her lightsaber and flicked it on, holding it out to point towards Phasma.

From the window, Phasma shook her head in disappointment.

Rey gave a slight frown. She sliced her lightsaber through the air and showed off a somewhat difficult technique. She then threw her lightsaber toward a small tree, cleanly cutting it in two, and called it back to her with the Force like a boomerang. Rey looked back for Phasma’s reaction.

Phasma pat her palm against her open mouth in a fake yawn.

Rey huffed. With a display of grace and skill, the Jedi wielded the weapon like a dancer and spun it around herself, showcasing her various abilities to Phasma that were better than any of Kylo Ren’s. Rey’s final move was to flip high into the air and strike off a thick branch of the top of a tree so that as she landed on the ground, posed on bended knee, the branch fell down behind her like an avalanche of leaves.

Phasma raised her hands so they were visible to Rey and gave her a slow clap of mild approval. Apparently it wasn’t enough for Rey as she lifted her own hand and snapped her two fingers with an echo. The bars of the window rang like tining forks, causing Phasma to flinch back in surprise. She gripped the bars in her hands to still their ringing and felt the vibrations wash up her arms and through her body like ripples in water.

It was one of her Jedi Force tricks, which she confirmed by looking back at Rey and seeing her smiling face shine in triumph as she walked out of sight.

The remnants of the vibrations flowed through her in a cadence that joined her heartbeat. The feeling lingered for the rest of the day. Rey had put it there on purpose and Phasma didn’t know why other than to ensure the Captain consistently kept the Jedi on her mind.

* * *

There was always buzz on the base. Though the soldiers and pilots seemed lazy and inept, they were at least prepared to move out at any time of day. Phasma figured things were not usually like this, but her intel had given the Resistance a strong advantage and they were planning out strikes that could be carried out at the earliest opportunity.

The day had finally arrived. That afternoon, the base alarms went off and Phasma watched everyone run towards the ships. General Organa appeared, shouting orders.

“Deploy now! Every X-Wing is needed! Red squadron, take the lead!

Rey sprinted towards one of the ships, carrying her lightsaber and a longstaff. Phasma was sure she saw the Jedi glance in her direction before taking off into the sky.

* * *

The next day the First Order fell in a remarkable feat of dishonor. Phasma found out when General Organa came to her cell and ordered the few guards remaining away.

“Captain Phasma of the _former_ First Order,” the General stated. Phasma swallowed hard, unsure what her fate might be now that the Resistance had no use for her at all. Not to mention she had permanently scarred a few people during her imprisonment. She stood at attention, awaiting her sentencing.

Suddenly General Organa stepped aside and waved towards the door. “You are free to go.”

The shock wore off slowly until Phasma could speak. “I don’t understand.”

“Your intel has given the Resistance a huge advantage. We’ve won the war because of you. It would be immoral to take your life.”

Phasma paused for a moment and was perplexed when the back of her neck broke out in a cold sweat. “I…have no where to go.”

“I’ve set up travel arrangements for you. You will be dropped off on Tatooine where you will undoubtedly have no trouble finding work and making a living for yourself. You leave in ten minutes.”

The General was as calm and caring as usual though her words managed to cut into her like a poisoned Parnassian blade. Phasma was aware that her broken loyalties had led her to this moment where the General had no choice but to get rid of her as quickly as she could. Allowing her to live was just common consideration but allowing her to stay would undoubtedly cause huge problems.

“Let me collect my things.”

She didn’t really have anything, and the General somewhat acknowledged that by glancing around the room in confusion, but then she politely nodded her head and left to give Phasma time alone.

The Captain wasn’t sure why she was stalling. She hated being a prisoner the last two weeks and she certainly didn’t want to be near the Resistance any longer than she had to. The only thing she really wanted to keep was the holo-emitters from Wikk, but she took her time anyway, packing up her armor by folding it up in her cape and slinging it over her shoulder like a rucksack. She finally made her way to the tarmac where the cargo ship to Tatooine was ready to lift off. Before embarking, Phasma took one last look around the base but no one was there to make sure she got on or to give her a send off. No one at all.

Phasma sat in the nearest jump seat and not even the pilots acknowledged her presence. She might as well have been a stowaway.

* * *

Four hours later she stepped out on Tatooine to a foreign world where she knew nobody. She had no idea what she was going to do or where to go. She had no other abilities other than fighting and she wasn’t sure if her skills were transferable to other careers.

“Force! Who are you?”

Phasma looked down to the voice beside her and found a small blue hook-nosed looking alien staring up at her in awe.

“I’m Ca-. My name is Phasma.”

“You need work, Phasma?”

Or perhaps General Organa was correct and it wouldn’t be too difficult at all.

“What kind of work?” Phasma asked.

“Woman like you could be anything here. There’s pod mechanic. Bantha herder. Cantina bouncer. I bet you’d even fetch a good price if you were willing to go a more carnal route.” He waggled his brows and skirted his eyes over her entire body at the last mention.

“What are you getting out of it?”

“Establishments pay finder’s fees for fresh meat and you’re a good find. Just tell me where you want me to take you. Wanna be a bounty hunter? Gotta warn you though, the bounty hunter market is heavily over-saturated these days.”

“What do you recommend for an ex-soldier?”

“Ah, you must be a former Resistance member!”

“Why do you say that?”

“You’re a little tall for a stormtrooper. Anyway, there are fighting matches every night and twice on weekends down at the gambling square. I got a guy who can set you up for a match. Follow me.”

Phasma made sure her armor was well hidden in her cape and followed behind him for a few streets until a loud clanking caught her attention. She turned to see a Wookiee under a tall awning, striking a mallet against a silver metal. Phasma stopped her escort and pointed to the shop.

“What is that?”

“Eh, that’s a Wookiee.”

“I am aware of that. What’s she doing?”

“You’ve never seen a blacksmith before? Kaal’s been established here maybe a hundred years now.” He gave Phasma a hopeful glance. “Kaal says she could use a strong hired man from time to time. Or in your case, woman. Interested?”

Phasma didn’t even hesitate. “Introduce me.”

* * *

Kaal was glad to find someone who could not only understand her language and be an exceptional worker, but also who minded her own business and was fine sleeping on the floor a few days until other accommodations could be made. It turned out that Kaal wasn’t just any blacksmith. She was an armorer, and a well respected one at that. If Phasma held advanced knowledge about anything, it was armor.

A few nights later, Phasma showed up to a fight at the gambling square, bet on herself, and cleaned out the establishment. The next day she found a place to call her own, which happened to be the first time in her life she had chosen something for herself. She decorated the mantle with Wikk’s drawing in pride.

Tatooine is a refuge of outcasts and that made it easy for Phasma to fit within the populace. A few months in, Phasma was well established in Mos Espa. She had even managed to make some acquaintances who teased her for her lack of humor despite not having much humor themselves.

She was no longer allowed at the fighting rings but her brief appearance in the matches gained her a few opportunities to make some quick credits as a bodyguard. She was strangely popular at the red light district despite never doing anything more than serving as patrol when she was paid for it.

Her blacksmith skills were growing rapidly. Kaal was patient with her but also impressed with how quickly Phasma took to learning the trade. She’d never known a human as strong before. The first thing Phasma forged on her own was a silver longstaff with sharp tips on both ends. She fashioned a wooden rack and kept the staff on display inside the shop.

The holo-emitters kept coming. She and Wikk continued to exchange letters and vids and receiving one was usually the highlight of her week. He got better at drawing and she got better at telling him stories. He especially seemed to enjoy the one about the mysterious Jedi.

Phasma had never felt at home before, and still didn't yet truly understand the meaning, but living as a free woman on Tatooine brought her closer to the concept than ever.

* * *

Holo-emitters and subspace communications are a typical means of exchanges, but hardly does one ever receive news by emissary. One morning Phasma walked into the armor shop to find a Wookiee she’d never seen before speaking with Kaal.

As soon as she entered, Kaal pointed to Phasma just as the emissary looked back at her in a serious manner. Phasma stayed rooted in place with an arched brow while the emissary stepped over to her with loud stomps. He pulled out a scroll from the bag slung over his shoulder, handed it to her and then gave her a nod before walking out the door.

Kaal was beside herself in excitement as she urged Phasma to read the message at that very moment.

“GRAAAAAAWR HURRRAAARGH RRUUNG RRUUNG…”

“How should I know? I just got here,” Phasma replied. “No, I don’t know who that was. Yes, yes, I’m hurrying.”

She unrolled the scroll and Kaal read it over her shoulder:

_On the Night of Falkryth’s Feast, the Wookiee Council and all citizens of Kashyyyk extend an invitation to Captain Phasma as Falkryth’s Guest of Honor._

There was more about an unveiling of a statue, a three day and three night banquet, plays honoring Falkryth, and an annual tournament including endurance races and feats of strength. One of those at least appealed to her.

There was also a line added at the end indicating she would have accommodations waiting for her set up by the High Council member Kalathyya. A plus one was included.

“I’m not going,” Phasma said, balling up the invitation and tossing it over her shoulder. Three seconds later, that same ball of paper hit her square on her left temple followed by Wookiee shrieking as Kaal reamed her out.

“You know I’m not comfortable with large crowds. I’ll be the only human there. Well, apparently I don’t know how big of a deal this is, but I also don’t care.” Phasma pulled out every excuse in the book to counter each of Kaal’s arguments.

Suddenly Kaal grabbed the silver longstaff off the wall rack and held it out for Phasma to see. Phasma went silent as Kaal threw it to the ground with a last scathing remark as she walked out of the shop. The former Captain hadn’t told Kaal the reason she had made the longstaff, but Kaal had guessed correctly all the same.

Phasma picked up the longstaff and stared at the inscription she had etched in the day it had been made.

_To Wikk. I will always protect you._

Phasma went immediately to the ship port to look for anyone who might be going to or near Kashyyyk soon.

* * *

Phasma knew finding transport to Kashyyyk would be difficult, but she held out hope despite not having found any transports and told the bartender at the nearest cantina to keep a look out for travelers going to the Wookiee homeworld. She received a message the next day that he had found a ride for her. Slipping a few hundred credits into her pocket, Phasma went back to the bar at the time she was given to meet the pilot and make a deal.

She was hunched over the bar, sipping at her Raxian ale while she waited. She had a moment to spare and took out the invitation she carried in her pocket, reading it over again for the umpteenth time.

_Falkryth’s Guest of Honor_

It was strange to be the guest of a god. She still wasn’t sure how that would work out. How many gods did the Wookiee’s have? Potentially, there could be hundreds of guests of honor.

“I hear you need passage to Kashyyyk.”

Phasma had been invested enough in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed she had company slip onto the barstool beside her. Caught off guard for the moment, Phasma let her jaw drop slightly before closing it shut.

“How did you hear that?”

Rey nodded her head at the bartender. “Your man there.”

“I mean, how did you initially? Surely you weren’t already here on Tatooine.”

“Chewbacca was told you were invited as Falkryth’s guest of honor.”

“And so you thought you’d come by and see if that was true?” Phasma said with a smirk.

Rey shrugged and hailed the bartender for a drink. “I never doubted it.” The bartender slid a glass with green liquid down her way and she caught it, gave it a sip, and nodded in approval before continuing. “I’ll admit that I’m surprised you accepted though.”

“I almost didn’t,” Phasma said. And then added, “But I would like to see Wikk again. I need to make sure he’s regularly practicing his defensive stance.”

“Of course,” Rey answered, half rolling her eyes.

“Why would you be surprised that I accepted?”

“You don’t strike me as someone who appreciates attention, especially as guest of honor.”

“I’m sure I will be seated with the other guests of honor and there will be nothing more about it.”

Rey flinched back in confusion. “What other guests of honor? I’m not sure you realize that you’re not _a_ guest of honor. You’re _the_ Guest of Honor. Falkryth’s Guest of Honor.”

“Please stop saying guest of honor,” Phasma said, though she paused to stare at the floor in thought. Perhaps it would have been wise to research this feast before sending her acceptance letter to the council. She seemed to have an expert sitting next to her though. “What exactly does this feast entail?”

“Falkryth’s Feast is the most important holiday on Kashyyyk, even exceeding Life Day. It’s a three day festival where the Wookiees eat and compete in tournaments, however this one will be quite special because it’s the first one to feature the reforging of the Falkryth statue since the previous one had been melted down by the Empire. The Wookiees are very serious about their statue. It has a lot of meaning to them.”

“I suspect it symbolizes strength and protection to them.”

“And everything else Falkryth stands for.”

“There must have been a reason the Empire took the statue down,” Phasma surmised.

“Are you… supplying excuses for them?” Rey asked.

“No. Thinking like an imperialist comes naturally to me though. I assume it was to demoralize the Wookiees when they were enslaved, but you said it was melted down, so if my assumptions are correct, the statue was made of silver solarium, which the Empire stripped down and used in the mines.”

Rey gave Phasma a nod of approval. “Your reasoning is spot on.”

“I’m not even done yet,” Phasma replied. “As it happens, I’m quite aware that the Wookiees recently came into a rather large shipment of silver solarium that was intended to be used in the mines, however with the dissolution of the First Order, the metal is no longer necessary for those means. The Wookiees decided to use the shipment to erect a statue of Falkryth in the place it had once been as an emblem of patriotism and freedom of oppression.”

“Well done!” Rey clapped. “I’m impressed.”

Phasma quirked a brow at Rey. “Are you?”

“Of course. You think I’m mocking you?”

“I don’t ever know,” Phasma shrugged but a warmth flowed through her knowing the Jedi was indeed impressed. Not wanting her blush to show, Phasma changed the topic away from herself. “That statue must have been rather impressive no matter how large it is. It would be gold by day, silver by night.” Phasma let a smile slip at the corner of her mouth as she stared out across the bar in recall. “I remember the first time Wikk saw me. He was so surprised to find a god on a star destroyer in space.”

“I guess since there’s no sunshine in space, he never got to see that you don’t turn gold.”

“One morning, he mentioned there being no sun. Now I see he was trying to figure out how the gold fit in with the lore. This was even after he saw my hair, which is when I think his little mind decided I really was Falkryth. He’d even said as much.”

“It must be nice being a god,” Rey said.

Phasma glanced over at Rey in perplexity. “You should know.”

“What?” Rey straightened up in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“Out on Ajan Koss. You were always flying through the trees.”

“I’m not a god though. I was just using the Force.”

“The power of your mystical religion. Religions usually have gods, don’t they?”

Rey flinched back and looked at Phasma in disbelief. “Are you serious? Jedi’s don’t have gods. You know as much about the Jedi as you do about Falkryth’s Feast.”

“Maybe you’re the one that hasn’t realized you’re part of a religion.” Phasma held up a hand and began ticking off her fingers. “One, you follow a philosophy that many would consider unorthodox. Two, the Jedi have masters and monks and other spiritual leaders that normally would not be necessary without a religious doctrine to follow.”

“Okay, that doesn’t really count because the Forc-”

“Three, you can fly, call objects to you, read minds, heal, and all kinds of other things that a normal person cannot.”

“You jumped through a high window! A normal person can’t do that either!”

“Four, you meditate and pray. That’s a very religious thing to do.”

“I don’t know that I would call it praying.”

“Five, and most evident, I take the Force’s name in vain. That’s a good indicator it’s at least god-like.”

“What? Now you’re just reaching.”

“So there you have it,” Phasma finished off, raising her glass to Rey. “All the evidence suggests that you are, in fact, a goddess.” She brought the glass to her lips and took a solid drink before thumping the empty glass on the bar in satisfaction.

Rey stared at Phasma incredulously. “Did…did you just hit on me?”

Phasma ignored her statement. “You once implied we could engage in a brawl. Would you allow me the chance to take down a goddess tonight?”

Rey managed to gawk at Phasma with a full smile she couldn’t possibly temper. “What did you say was the definition of aggressive?”

“Tough, brazen, assertive. I can get a thesaurus for you, if you like.”

“No need. I believe you are, indeed, quite aggressive.”

“I am,” Phasma replied. “In every way.”

“I can be very aggressive too, you know,” Rey said.

“Oh?” Phasma retorted with some doubt. “As I recall, you told me you were not usually aggressive at all. I’m not sure I believe you.”

Rey narrowed her eyes at Phasma with a pause. She let her gaze start from the top of Phasma’s head all the way down to her boots in one slow sweep. The Captain wasn’t sure if Rey was using her Jedi tricks on her but a fire was stoked within all the same.

“Where’s your armor?” Rey suddenly asked.

Phasma, caught off guard, responded a little late. “In my closet.”

“I like the way it looks on you,” Rey replied.

“Thank y-”

“But it would look better on the floor next to my bed.”

To say Phasma was surprised by Rey’s words would be an understatement. It astonished her enough to give Rey time to give another line.

“What I like best about your armor is the reflection. I like seeing me on you.”

“Eh…a little corny,” Phasma said, though she was caught in the thrill anyway.

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re gorgeous?”

“Yes. The last person to do so got his head blown off.”

“Are you going to blow mine off too?”

Phasma gave Rey a wide-eyed stare. As innuendos go, it wasn’t a good one but Rey was strongly insinuating something and it had somehow hit Phasma where it mattered.

“I…I don’t know what you mean by th-that…” Phasma stuttered.

Rey moved closer to Phasma so that her knee was between Phasma’s thighs as they sat on the bar stools. “A proper god is tall, powerful, and beautiful.” Rey leaned in towards Phasma. “I would get on my knees to worship you.”

Phasma swallowed hard, still staring at Rey. She wracked her brain for a better retort but her mind was blank except for the thought of how enticing Rey’s lips looked in that moment.

“Believe me now?” Rey asked.

Phasma nodded her head. Her mouth felt too dry to speak.

“If you want to take me down, meet me on my ship tonight,” Rey said as she leaned back into her stool and picked up her drink.

“I’ll bring the weapons,” Phasma managed to utter.

“Weapons? We’re doing this your way then?”

“A match with an uncommon opponent deserves uncommon weapons.”

“All right, then,” Rey shrugged with a bit of a laugh. “Whatever the outcome, I get the feeling I’ll still be winning.”

* * *

Walking through the ship port, before Phasma had reached the _Millenium Falcon_ , Rey was already waiting for her on the lowered plank.

“I thought you’d be wearing your armor,” Rey called out to her.

“No need,” Phasma replied as she stopped in front of Rey. She had a huge bag slung over her shoulder that could have fit four Jawas and a plasma cannon. “Do you want payment before I come aboard?”

“Why don’t we decide payment later,” Rey said, stepping aside so Phasma could enter. The Jedi walked the blonde to the main quarters where Rey slept. Phasma put her bag down and removed her jacket.

“So, what do you have in mind?” Rey asked, getting more confused by the second. “I thought we were going to fight.”

“We are,” Phasma nodded. “Right now. Right here.”

“Here? In my ship? Oh, no, no, no… I don’t want anything destroyed, especially with your…weapons there.” Rey pointed to Phasma’s bag but could have just as easily been pointing to her arms as well.

“Nothing will get destroyed. I promise,” Phasma said as she tilted her head to the side and casually cricked her neck. She reached into her bag.

“I have to stress that I would prefer if we take this outside because I plan on going hard on you and I can’t have anything in here d-”

From what seemed like out of nowhere, Rey was smacked in the head by an oversized, soft pillow. She caught it in her hands as it fell off her head and gave Phasma a look of bewilderment.

“That’s a point to me,” Phasma said as she raised the other pillow she had in her hand and swung it towards Rey with the speed of a hyperdrive. Rey quickly pulled her pillow up and blocked the strike. In an instant, she was on the offense.

“Point!” Rey yelled out as she ducked a strike and smacked her pillow upside Phasma’s head. Phasma countered with a roundhouse strike and nearly hit Rey with her pillow until she felt it come out of her hands by an invisible force. The Captain looked to see Rey’s hand poised in the air as she used her power before her sight was obscured by the white of Rey’s weapon. Phasma was pushed into the bed by the strength of the pillow smack.

“I am a goddess!” Rey cried out in glee. Phasma came up laughing and Rey suddenly paused to stare at Phasma in surprise. And in that moment, Phasma knew Rey was undoubtedly attracted to her.

In one fluid motion, the Captain grabbed the pillow from off the floor and the one out of Rey’s hand and clapped them on both sides of the Jedi’s head. Rey grabbed the pillow again and they both laughed as they wailed their pillows at one another. The fight continued until feathers were floating every which way through the air and suddenly they were in the bed, clothes off, trying to impress each other in a different kind of way.

* * *

The _Millenium Falcon_ entered Kashyyyk space and was approaching a landing. Phasma hadn’t planned on wearing her armor but she was persuaded by both Rey and Kaal who didn’t stop persisting until her cape was clasped securely around her neck.

“...HRRRGRAAAWRG”

“Yeah, I heard that too. Did you hear about that, Phasma?” Rey yelled back to the Captain who currently stood as still as a statue in nervous anticipation. “The Con Star Mining Corporation finally went bankrupt.”

The only thing Phasma could muster was a grunt. Her stomach was a knot of more knots. It was one thing to be there as a guest of honor, but quite another to finally see Wikk again. She had the absurd thought that he might have forgotten her in the past six months.

“GRAAAWNGRUMPH”

“No kidding? Hey, Phasma! Kaal says the CEO of Con Star was murdered a few years back. Did you know that?”

Phasma had never felt anxiety like this in her life. The boy who had changed the course of her life was only a few minutes away. She wasn’t a god and he knew that. What would he think of her now?

“I guess she didn’t,” Rey told Kaal as she lowered the ship. “Look at all those Wookiees down there! Thousands of them! I’ve never seen so many people gathered at once.”

Phasma felt the landing gear press into the ground. Already the cheers from outside were loud in their calls. As soon as the ship touched down, the cheering grew exponentially.

Rey and Kaal came to stand on either side of Phasma.

“Ready?” Rey asked.

“I’m not sure I should be wearing this,” Phasma replied. Her voice wavered, betraying her nervousness.

“GREEEHRAAWG” Kaal assured, giving Phasma a pat on the shoulder.

Rey pressed the button on the wall and the plank lowered. The crowd outside was deafening now. Amid the elated roars was music playing and drums beating. Wookiees waved colorful flags and banners, giving another shout of cheer as Phasma appeared.

The Captain walked on shaky legs down the plank towards the welcoming committee which consisted of a host of respected Wookiees including the seven high council members and their families. Her eyes darted all around, searching for a familiar face.

“WAAAR!”

She heard him before she saw him. A short Wookiee broke away from the crowd and ran towards her with unbridled happiness. Phasma’s nervousness drained away and she held out her arms in a welcoming hug. Their embrace felt as natural as family should.

Kalathyya and the rest of the council came up and delivered a welcome statement to the Captain and her guests and the crowd again erupted in cheers.

Wikk kept her hand in his as she was led to the festival, talking non-stop about everything that a six-year-old does. Phasma, in the company of Wikk, surrounded by new friends, honored by an entire race, making her own living as an ex-soldier, had never been happier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fin.
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who read this! I appreciate every kudos and comment!  
> And a super special thank you to [AlynnaStrong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlynnaStrong) for the prompt! For there would be no story without it.


End file.
